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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24379177">All Our Fears Would Be Irrelevant</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/YesMadamePresident/pseuds/YesMadamePresident'>YesMadamePresident</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Madam Secretary</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slow Burn, Workplace Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:27:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>36,030</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24379177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/YesMadamePresident/pseuds/YesMadamePresident</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth Adams has never held public office before, so she needs smart people on her staff to help her out. That's why she hires Dr. Henry McCord as a political advisor. </p><p>AU where Elizabeth and Henry meet in Season One of the show. Slow Burn, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, all the good stuff.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elizabeth McCord &amp; Alison McCord, Elizabeth McCord &amp; Isabelle Barnes, Elizabeth McCord &amp; Jason McCord, Elizabeth McCord/Henry McCord, Henry McCord &amp; Stephanie McCord</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Huge thank you to Aviator39 for proofreading, brainstorming, and encouraging. Title is from "If the World Was Ending" by JP Saxe ft. Julia Michaels. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Mom! You have to wake up. Mom.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth finally opened her eyes to see Alison hovering next to her bed, a hand gently shaking her shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, baby wha-what time is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison smiled. “It’s 11:00.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth sat up quickly. “What?” She looked at her alarm clock. Sure enough, 11:07 to be exact. “I’m sorry baby, I must have been more exhausted than I thought. I was out late with friends last night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, spy reunion. But you have to get up, so we can get going.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, we gotta go to...what are we doing today?” Elizabeth ran a hand over her face, trying to remember the plans they had made.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re taking me shopping for homecoming today. Remember?” Alison asked, a little mocking but good-natured.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, right. Homecoming. Well why don’t you make breakfast and I’ll get ready to go. Is Jason up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, he’s playing video games or something. But I think the breakfast ship has sailed, Mom. How about I just make some coffee and we can grab lunch while we’re out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth nodded, pushing the covers off of her legs so she could get out of bed. “Sounds good.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Half an hour later, they were beginning to pull out of the garage, when Jason came out of the house, holding something up to the car window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh crap, my phone,” said Elizabeth, realizing she had forgotten it in her rush. Alison rolled down her window to take it, but Jason didn’t hand it over just yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It wouldn’t stop ringing, so I answered it,” he said. “Some lady says it’s the president.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth reached for it. “PTA?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason shook his head. “United States,” he responded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison rolled her eyes. “Well hang up. It’s a prank.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just take it,” he said to his mom. “She sounds serious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth sighed and was beginning to reach for it when, hearing police sirens, they all turned to look down the driveway. A presidential motorcade was heading for their house. They stayed completely frozen while the cars parked in a row and men and women in suits swiftly came out and opened a door. Elizabeth opened her door and stepped out of her SUV, while at the same time, President Dalton stepped out of his limousine. Somewhat stunned, she slowly walked toward him while her kids hung back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bess!” He called, by way of greeting as she got close enough to hear him. “Is this a bad time?”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“You’re joking,” said Elizabeth in disbelief. She glanced around at the Secret Service agents who guarded every entrance to her small kitchen, and back at the president of the United States, her friend, who sat across the table from her. His face did not say that he was joking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t mean you’re joking,” she quickly backtracked. “But you can’t be serious.” His frown deepened. “Obviously you’re serious,” she said. “I just...why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I recruited you for the CIA,” he said. “I trained you as an analyst. I appointed you Station Chief at Baghdad. I know how you think. How you work. I trust you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the president stepped away to ask his agents for some privacy, Elizabeth breathed deeply. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted to nominate you right after I was elected,” he continued. “I was talked out of my choice by...well-meaning advisors. Vincent Marsh was always running for office. You have no such ambition. You quit a profession you love for ethical reasons and for the sake of your family. That makes you the least political person I know.” He smiled slightly. “You don’t just think outside the box. You don’t even know there is a box.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. President-” she started, but he cut her off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My advisors seem to think that’s a problem, but I think it’s just what the country needs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. President,” she said again. He finally paused to listen to her. “Due respect, I don’t think my ethics and lack of political agenda are why your advisors talked you out of me. I was a divorced, single mother of two kids,” she said bluntly. “And I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> a divorced, single mother of two kids. That’s what made me leave the Company, surely you understand that.” It was a statement, but it sounded more like a question. She looked wide-eyed up at him, bewildered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sat down next to her, unfazed by her argument. “I believe I can effect real change in the world,” he told her. “I want you to help me do that. I know you won’t let me down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir. I have my family to think about. I have to say-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He held up a hand before she could say the word. “I don’t expect you to make a decision right now,” he said. “Take the day. Talk to your kids. Think about it, and give me a call,” he said, turning to leave the room. He paused, and looked at her one more time. “But I won’t take no for an answer,” he said with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth stared after him as he left the kitchen. He wasn’t just Director Dalton anymore. Her friend Conrad had just waltzed into her house and asked her to be Secretary of State. She watched him leave the house. He didn’t shut the door behind him; he had agents to do that. She stared into her coffee mug until she heard the motorcade pull down the driveway, and the sirens faded away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison and Jason must have been listening too, because as soon as the motorcade was gone they crept down the stairs. She had politely banished them to their rooms after they had both briefly greeted Conrad, but they must have decided it was safe to come back. They hovered in the doorway. Elizabeth smiled up at them. “Sorry about that, guys. Didn’t really expect the president to drop by,” she said, trying to seem casual.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kids weren’t fooled. “What was that about?” Jason asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth stood, drank the rest of her coffee, and turned to put it in the sink. “Well, he wanted my opinion on a situation in Iraq,” she said while she wasn’t facing them. “Given my experience, he just wanted my perspective.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison and Jason shared a look. “Why didn’t he call you?” asked Alison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth shrugged, walking past them into the living room. “Don’t know. Guess it was a conversation he wanted to have in person.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” said Jason, “but he’s the president of the United States. He doesn’t go to you, you go to him. Why not summon you to the White House?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom, are you lying to us?” asked Alison. Elizabeth’s heart sank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my God,” Jason said, staring intently at his mother. “You’re working for the CIA again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my God,” Alison repeated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jason,” said Elizabeth firmly. “I’m not working for the CIA again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then what’s going on?” asked Alison. “Why did you look so freaked out when he was leaving?” She sat down on the couch, indicating she wasn’t leaving without an answer. Jason quickly joined her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” said Elizabeth, sitting on the chair opposite them. “I wasn’t going to tell you, because I didn’t want to freak </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> out. You probably heard that Vincent Marsh, the Secretary of State, died last night. The president asked me to be his new Secretary of State.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her words hung in the air for a minute, but Alison broke the silence. “Mom! When were you going to tell us?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Elizabeth replied. “Never?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait,” said Jason, “so you’re saying no?” He seemed a little relieved.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not even going to consider it?” asked Alison, incredulous. “Mom, I know you. This is, like, your dream job. How can you say no?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, Ali-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe she doesn’t want to involve herself any further with a corrupt body of government,” Jason suggested. “Just a thought.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that is definitely not the reason,” Elizabeth said with half a smile. “But think about it for a second, guys. Do you really want to move to Washington, DC? Change schools? Leave the farm? And I would be working all day, staying late, I just- I can’t justify doing that to guys.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason softened. “So, you’re turning it down for us?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not very fair to you,” said Alison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s plenty fair. I’m a mom first. I did the serving-my-country thing.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>At the expense of my family, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought to herself. “But right now,” she said, smiling widely “I’m gonna do the driving-Alison-to-the-mall thing.” She stood up, brushing away the tension of their conversation. “And you’re going to do the modeling-homecoming-dresses thing. And tonight, maybe we can do the order-bad-Chinese-food thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason looked content, but Alison wasn’t convinced. “Mom, are you sure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth smiled. “He gave me a day to think about it, but I know my decision. I’ll call the president tomorrow morning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later that day, when Alison and Elizabeth had returned home with, in Alison’s words, “the absolute most perfect dress,” Elizabeth went for a ride with Buttercup to clear her head. She still felt overwhelmed by what Conrad had offered her, but her choice remained clear. She had been putting her kids before herself for the past 8 years. This was another in a long line of situations where what she wanted wasn’t important. She had to do what was right for her kids.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The sun was beginning to set when she got back to the house. “Hey, who’s ready for dinner?” she asked as she made her way into the living room. Alison was sitting next to Jason, who was playing one of his video games. They both looked up when she entered, and Jason picked up the TV remote. Elizabeth watched in surprise as the screen went black.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that’s never happened,” she joked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her kids weren’t smiling. “We need to talk,” said Jason.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” she said, sitting. “I can’t possibly guess what </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> is about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison shifted in her seat. “Mom, we think you should take the job,” she said simply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We think you should consider it,” Jason amended.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” said Alison, “we don’t necessarily want you to take it. We want you to do what </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason looked at his hands. He seemed a little reluctant to be a part of the conversation. “We talked about it. You’re not really being fair to yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison nodded. “It seemed like you dismissed the whole thing right off the bat. You just got like, the coolest job offer ever, and all you cared about was us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth smiled softly at her caring daughter. “Well, I have a job. And part of my job as your mom is to put you guys first. I can’t always do what I want. I have to think about how my choices affect you guys.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s kinda depressing,” said Jason.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth chuckled. “Not to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison didn’t seem convinced. “Mom, be honest. Do you want the job? Pretend we don’t exist.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Pretending you don’t exist...no stretch marks, I keep the money I spent on that dress today, and I probably have a dog.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Alison laughed, but pressed on. “Come on, I’m serious. I know it’s complicated, and there’s a lot to consider, but what does your heart say? Do you want to be Secretary of State?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth looked at Jason, and then back at Alison. “Yes.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Elizabeth begins the confirmation process for Secretary of State and meets with a man from the Office of Government Ethics who has been tasked with vetting her for the job.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“...and Mr. Jackson will introduce you to the President’s staff. Then you’ll head down to the Situation Room for an intelligence briefing with Alex Kane from the Pentagon about recent events in North Africa. After that is your first confirmation interview. You’ll be meeting with a Dr. Henry McCord from the Office of Government Ethics. He’ll ask you some questions, probably about your time at the CIA as well as some personal questions. This is just a routine part of the vetting process, and since it’s the first interview it’ll probably be--”</p>
<p>“Blake.”</p>
<p>“Yes, ma’am?”</p>
<p>“How much longer till we get to the White House?”</p>
<p>Blake looked at his watch. “I think about 5 minutes.”</p>
<p>“Do you think it’s possible for us to spend at least three of them in silence?”</p>
<p>“Absolutely.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Well, I think we’ve covered just about everything, Dr. Adams. I look forward to working with you,” said Alex Kane from the Pentagon, extending his hand.</p>
<p>Elizabeth took it. “Thank you so much, Mr. Kane. I do as well.”</p>
<p>With that, Elizabeth was leaving her first ever meeting in the Situation Room. She found Blake waiting patiently in the hall for her, and they set off for the next meeting. “How did it go?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Good, I think. I understood pretty much everything, but that didn’t stop Alex Kane from the Pentagon from saying it all at least twice.”</p>
<p>Blake was already making a note. “I’ll try to make sure they send someone else next time.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Blake. What’s next?”</p>
<p>“Now you have your interview with Dr. McCord from the Office of Government Ethics. And I believe,” he flipped through his notes, “that it’s one floor up,” he said, turning a corner toward where he knew the stairs would be.</p>
<p>“Lead the way,” said Elizabeth.</p>
<p>Soon enough, they made their way to the right room. “This is it,” said Blake. “Need anything from me?”</p>
<p>Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m good if you’re good.” Blake nodded and went to find a place to wait for her. Elizabeth took a deep breath and opened the door. A brown-haired man in reading glasses was sitting at the end of a small conference table, looking at a file, presumably on her. He looked up when he heard the door and smiled brightly.</p>
<p>“Dr. Adams,” he said, extending his hand, which she took. “I’m Henry,” he said.</p>
<p>“And I’m Elizabeth,” she replied. “It’s nice to meet you, although you probably already know everything about me.”</p>
<p>“Including that you were in the CIA, meaning you know everything about me,” he joked, eliciting a slight laugh from her. “Anyway, it’s nice to put a face to a name.”</p>
<p>“Likewise,” she said, pulling out a chair at the corner of the table. “Shall we?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” he said, and they both sat. “Should I assume you know the purpose of these meetings?” he asked. </p>
<p>“You want to make sure I don’t have a history of drug abuse or an illegitimate child hiding somewhere?”</p>
<p>He chuckled. “Well, those would be the extremes. Mainly I’m here to make sure that we know about anything that could trip up your confirmation process ahead of time, so we’ll be prepared for it.”</p>
<p>Elizabeth nodded. “I think I can handle that.”</p>
<p>“Great. Well, let’s get started,” he said, opening his folder to reveal what looked like a copy of her resume, as well as some papers where he had taken some notes. She imagined the many other pages were documents pertaining to her time at the CIA, her family, and every other aspect of her life. “As we go forward, these meetings will get a little more in-depth. But for starters, I’ve got some basic questions about your time at the CIA.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Henry had been at home for about an hour when he decided to call his daughter at school. The first time Stevie had come home during her first semester at Lovell, he had been astonished at how much he was missing. Since then he made an effort to call her once a week. Sometimes she answered; sometimes she didn’t, but he always wanted her to feel like he wanted to talk to her. </p>
<p>He knew she had just finished up with midterms, so he hadn’t talked to her in over two weeks. He was relieved when she answered the phone.</p>
<p>“Hey, Dad, what’s up?” she asked, sounding a bit breathy.</p>
<p>“Hey, sweetheart, I just hadn’t heard from you in a while and wanted to check in. Is this an okay time? You sound a little out of breath.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m just walking back to my dorm from Statistics.”</p>
<p>“Oh, well how’d that go?” Henry asked, settling into his seat on the couch. </p>
<p>“Uhh, it was fine. Kind of boring.” Stevie arrived at her dorm building and fished for her key in her pocket. “What about you? How was work?”</p>
<p>“It was interesting, actually. I got to interview Dalton’s appointee for Secretary of State.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I heard about that. What did you think of her? What’s her name again?”</p>
<p>“Elizabeth Adams. She seemed like the perfect choice for the job. She worked for the CIA for over 20 years, lived in Baghdad for a year and a half, so she’ll be prepared to handle the Middle East, that’s for sure.”</p>
<p>“Well that’s good, I guess. Has she ever held office before?”</p>
<p>“No, she’s been a college professor for the past eight years. My understanding is that she left the CIA right after her divorce.”</p>
<p>“That makes sense. You think she can handle going from college professor to government official in one day?”</p>
<p>Henry grinned. “I managed it okay.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but you went from ethics professor to working in the Office of Ethics. I don’t think that’s quite as big a leap.”</p>
<p>“Well, she can hire advisors who are proficient in fields she’s lacking in. All great politicians do that.”</p>
<p>“It sounds like she’s already got you in her corner.”</p>
<p>“Well, I still have a lot more vetting to do. But from where I’m standing, if I were a Senator...I’d vote for her.</p>
<p>“You know, my friend Hannah asked me the other day what you do. I told her you work in the Office of Government Ethics, which basically means you fight to keep corruption out of the government.”</p>
<p>“And what did she say?”</p>
<p>“That the two are synonymous. ‘One cannot exist without the other.’”</p>
<p>“Is your friend Hannah a philosophy major?”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Elizabeth was in the middle of a meeting with her new staff. They were finalizing her schedule for the next two weeks leading up to her confirmation hearing when Blake walked into the room. </p>
<p>“Madam Secretary, we need to leave in 5 minutes to make your meeting with Dr. McCord. Should I have the car get ready for you?”</p>
<p>“Oh, that was the other thing I wanted to mention,” said Elizabeth, addressing the rest of her staff. “I want to hire Dr. McCord.”</p>
<p>“Ma’am?” said Blake, calling her attention back to his question.</p>
<p>“Right. Yes, go ahead and get them ready.”</p>
<p>“Ma’am,” said Jay, “I’m sorry, you want to hire the ethics advisor?”</p>
<p>“He has worked for NSA, DIA, and is a former marine. He’s brilliant and understands...pretty much every religion in the world. I want him at the table.”</p>
<p>Nadine was taking notes. “Would you like me to arrange to meet with him?”</p>
<p>“No, that’s fine. I’ll interview him.”</p>
<p>“Yes, ma’am,” Nadine said curtly.</p>
<p>“Well, I have to be going now,” said Elizabeth. “When I come back, I want to see talking points. We’ll pick this up after lunch.”</p>
<p>With that, she was out the door. Blake hurried to follow her to the elevator. “Would you like me to set something up with Dr. McCord?”</p>
<p>“No, I’ll do it. I don’t want it to be too professional, you know? It’s not like he’s competing for the job. I mostly just want to gauge his interest.”</p>
<p>“Of course.”</p>
<p>“So what do <em> you </em> think of me hiring Dr. McCord?” she asked him.</p>
<p>“I think it’s a brilliant idea,” he replied, hitting the ground button on the elevator wall.</p>
<p>“And how would you feel if I wanted to not hire him?”</p>
<p>“It would definitely be the perfect decision.”</p>
<p>“Uh huh. And if I decided to dye my hair green?” she looked at him skeptically.</p>
<p>He said in mock seriousness, “you know, ma’am, it is just that kind of out-of-the-box thinking that this country needs right now.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>“That’s all of my questions. Is there anything else we need to cover?” Henry asked Elizabeth. They were nearing the end of their final meeting, and Elizabeth was surprised to find herself relatively at ease with the process she had been dreading.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” she asked him.</p>
<p>“Well, is there anything else you’re worried could come up during the confirmation? Anything at all?”</p>
<p>“I don’t think so. I mean, we’ve covered the CIA, my divorce, my time at UVA as a student <em> and </em>a professor. What should I be concerned about?”</p>
<p>“Anything that could be made to look bad. I don’t mean to pry, but besides your divorce we haven’t talked much about your family. Do you think anything could come up about your brother or your kids?”</p>
<p>Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Well, my brother is a trauma surgeon in war-torn countries, so his approval rating will probably be higher than mine. My kids are...well, they’re great,” she said, a smile appearing on her face as she talked about them. “I mean, my son is a self-proclaimed anarchist. Think that might cause any problems?”</p>
<p>Henry smiled back at her. “He’s twelve, right?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“Has he ever tried to overthrow the government?”</p>
<p>“Not as such, no.”</p>
<p>“Then I think he’ll be fine.”</p>
<p>“I’m glad to hear it.”</p>
<p>Henry began shuffling his papers into one large stack that he then put back in the folder they came from. “So how does an anarchist feel about his mother becoming the Secretary of State?”</p>
<p>“I think he’s conflicted. He’s a good kid, he wants to be supportive. But I think he’s probably worried I’ll fall prey to the corrupt powers-that-be. Or maybe he thinks I’m part of the corruption now, I don’t know.”</p>
<p>“Well, if he’s lucky, you’ll start a revolution from the inside.”</p>
<p>“Careful now,” she joked. “You never know when the Senate Foreign Relations Committee could be listening.” Henry laughed.</p>
<p>“Well, if all goes well, I should see you at the confirmation,” he said. “If not sooner,” he added quickly, a dash of hope in his voice.</p>
<p>“You know, actually I wanted to talk about that,” she said, not noticing the way his face lit up just a little. “I’ve really enjoyed some of the conversations we’ve had about religion and geopolitics. I was wondering if you’d want to continue them over lunch sometime?” </p>
<p>Henry smiled warmly. “I would love to. Are you free Monday?”</p>
<p>“I’ll make sure I am.”</p>
<p>“Where do you want to go?”</p>
<p>“I...haven’t lived in DC in 8 years,” she confessed. “You pick.”</p>
<p>“Well, how about I come by your office around 12 on Monday, and we can decide from there.”</p>
<p>“Perfect.”</p>
<p>With that, she was off to her next appointment. Henry watched her go, joined by her eccentric assistant, and found he couldn’t wait for the weekend to be over.</p>
<p>Elizabeth, meanwhile, was oblivious to his wondering about her intentions for the meeting. She was looking forward to a somewhat casual job interview, but for now her mind was elsewhere.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes, the Office of Government Ethics is a real thing.</p>
<p>Let me know what you think by leaving a kudos, a comment, or an ask on my Tumblr: YesMadamePresident. Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Elizabeth and Henry have lunch, and Elizabeth takes the Oath of Office.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So what made you decide to go back into government?” Elizabeth was saying. She and Henry were waiting for their food to arrive, and in the meantime they had gotten on the topic of his career as a college professor and then ethics advisor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I had done some work for the NSA when my daughter was little. And before that I was a Marine. I guess I missed serving my country, you know? I wanted to know that I was serving a higher purpose, not just a higher education. So when she went off to college, I started looking for government job openings that matched up with my experience. And so here I am.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here you are, indeed,” she said with a smile as their food arrived, and they paused conversation to eat for a little bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth broke the silence. “Well, Dr. McCord, I have to say I was a little dishonest about my intentions with this lunch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry pretended to gasp. “You mean you didn’t just want to discuss religion and geopolitics with me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She laughed. “Not exactly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suspected as much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She raised an eyebrow. “You did? Dr. McCord, maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> should think about the CIA. I guess you’re okay with it, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If this lunch is what I hope it is, you should probably call me Henry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, Henry. Well, I managed to procure a copy of your resume,” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My- you did?” he asked, trying to hide his confusion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was unfazed as she continued. “I did. And you really have been around. The Marines, NSA, Pentagon, and all over the world teaching ethics and religious studies.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yes,” he responded. “I’m not sure what your point is,” he said, feeling uneasy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just that you’re very well qualified, you’re an avid traveler, and you like to serve your country. That desire to serve a higher purpose?” She looked intently at him. “I recognize it. And I admire it. Henry, you know I’ve never held a position like this before. I need to have advisors well-versed in all aspects of diplomacy, and that includes understanding different cultures and religions.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry took a big swig of his water before nodding at her, indicating she should continue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want you, if you’re interested,” she said. Henry almost choked on his water. “As one of my policy advisors,” she clarified.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry stared at her. “This is a job interview,” he said, the words tumbling out of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth tilted her head. “Well, yeah. I mean, kind of. I thought you picked up on that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded, quickly backtracking. “Right, of course, it’s just I--I thought it was more of a preliminary…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shook her head. “Nope. If all goes well, I’ll be taking the Oath of Office in less than two weeks. We’re past preliminary. The job is yours if you want it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gaped at her. “Wow. I mean, yeah. Obviously, I’ll want to think about it. But I mean, this is--wow. Thank you,” he got out finally. “I’m flattered.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if you have any doubts,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “I can be very persuasive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry took another drink of water, muttering into his glass. “Yeah, I’ll bet you can.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth stood in the Oval Office with her two children behind her. Standing opposite her was Chief Justice Wilbourne. She swallowed thickly as he instructed her to repeat after him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I, Elizabeth Adams…” </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t look at the cameras,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Daisy had instructed her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keep your eyes on the Chief Justice and you’ll be fine. Don’t look at the crowd. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It didn’t matter if she looked at the crowd; she could feel their gaze. Cameras flashed. She was sure that every photographer in the room was zooming in on her face right now. Should she smile? </span>
  <em>
    <span>You can smile, but stay serious. Head up. Shoulders back. Yes, just like that. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And what was the other thing? There was one other thing. Her eyes drifted despite herself. She made eye contact with Henry at the back of the room. He smiled at her and, very intentionally, took a deep breath and let it out, holding her gaze the entire time. Right, that was the other thing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And don’t forget to breathe.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She took one deep breath before her last statement:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So help me God,” she finished, and was met with applause from everyone in the room, including President Dalton, who stood on the other side of the podium. He smiled and winked at her, and she smiled right back at him. She heard Alison cheering behind her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>After you take the oath, POTUS will walk toward you, and you’ll meet him in front of the podium. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She glanced over at Henry. He was beaming, and clapping with all his might, along with the rest of her staff. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’ll shake your hand. Make sure you hold on long enough for the photographers to get a good picture. Then you’ll go behind the podium to give your speech.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to thank President Dalton, both for your kind words earlier and for the honor you have bestowed on me today. I have no intention of taking it lightly, and every intention to become worthy of the title placed on my shoulders.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked to her right, and there were Alison and Jason, looking at her in love and admiration. “And to my precious children, Jason, Alison, thank you so much for the sacrifices I know you will have to make as we embark on this journey together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Try to look at your notes as little as possible. Think of it as you’re looking up and glancing at the notes, rather than staring at your notes and glancing up.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Elizabeth continued her speech, doing her best to follow every instruction in the crash course in public speaking she’d been given. Where was she supposed to look now? At the cameras, or not? Again, her eyes found Henry near the end of her speech. She took another deep breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God bless you all. And God bless the United States of America.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was Henry, clapping hard. And Blake looked so proud she thought he might cry. Jay and Matt and Daisy were all grinning widely, so she couldn’t have screwed up too bad. Even Nadine looked pleased. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stay at the podium for a few seconds for the cameras. Then back to your kids. You can give them a hug. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She squeezed each of her children tightly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And then they’ll follow you out the door.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s go,” she whispered to them. They both nodded, and with that they made their exit. She shook several hands on her way to the door, being congratulated by everyone from senators to speechwriters to Cabinet members. And now she was one of them.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>She spent the rest of the day gripping and grinning with politicians and reporters at three separate parties. She had initially protested, wanting to get right to work, but her staff and Russell Jackson had insisted. She had never been more grateful for Blake, who saved her a plate at every event and followed her around whispering names and positions of people she had never heard of. How he got any sleep at all was a mystery to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Blake,” she asked him, in between bites of crab puff, “how do you find the time to memorize the name of every person in Washington?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake raised an eyebrow. “I am a man of many talents. Also, just good with faces.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See, the faces I can handle. But the names, and positions?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what you pay me for,” he finished for her. “Coming up behind you is Senator Rita Bradley, Democrat from Oregon. Published a book last month.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Madam Secretary,” said Senator Bradley. Elizabeth turned to face her. “What a pleasure it is to be able to address you that way. Congratulations.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth shook her hand. “Senator Bradley, thank you so much. And congratulations to you on your new book!”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The next day, Elizabeth was already up and in the kitchen when Alison came in for breakfast. “Good morning, Ali,” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison grinned. “Good morning, Madam Secretary,” she practically sang.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh God,” she said. “You mean that wasn’t a dream?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope, really happened. As of yesterday, my mother is the most powerful woman in the country.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well I’m still your mother,” she said. Right then, they heard the ding of the toaster. “See, I made toast.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison frowned. “So why is the waffle iron out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that was my first attempt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ali shrugged, opening the fridge to find some jelly. “Yep. Still my mother.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just then, Jason appeared in the doorway. “Did I hear toast?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning, sweetheart. And yes you did,” said Elizabeth, happy to hear his voice. He hadn’t spoken to her a whole lot yesterday, but she was hoping he was just annoyed that he had to go to all those dinners. “I can cook when I want to,” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t respond, brushing past her to grab a plate. So maybe he was still annoyed.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>When Elizabeth left the house for her first real work day, Blake was in the car waiting for her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning, Madam Secretary,” he said with a big smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning, Blake. Is that ever gonna get less weird?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, considering it’s been less than 24 hours, I’d say there’s hope yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth laughed. The motorcade started off. “Your coffee,” said Blake. She thanked him as she accepted the warm cup. “Now do you want the morning spiel on the way there, or would you prefer to ride in silence?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yeah so Elizabeth and Henry are oblivious dorks. Gotta love em. Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We finally close out on the pilot and missing scenes and move to episode two! Elizabeth and Henry have a Moment™.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We're finally moving to episode two! I won't spend quite as much time on every episode, but there was a lot to get in there, and shorter chapters means more frequent updates. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A week after her confirmation, Elizabeth was beginning to feel settled in. Jason had stopped moping when the parties were over and he didn’t have to keep wearing a suit. Alison still felt homesick for the farm, but she was being a team player and trying not to complain. The house was beginning to feel like home. Then George had to show up and disrupt the sense of security she had been holding on to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His words echoed through her head the following day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Vincent Marsh’s plane crash was not an accident.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon, however, her thoughts were swept away in meetings and briefing books and a State Dinner with the King of Swaziland. After a pretty bold move at the dinner, which was well received by her staff, Twitter, and the King himself, she was feeling rather confident. George’s warning was long forgotten. Elizabeth had to go back to her office to change, and Henry walked with her, needing to pick some things up as well. As they were nearing her office, her cell phone started buzzing in her bag. She stopped and pulled it out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s my friend Isabelle,” she said. “Old CIA buddy. I should probably take it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go right ahead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth put the phone to her ear and started toward her office. “Hey, is everything okay?” she asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stopped in her tracks before she reached the door. “What? What happened?” Whatever was said on the other end made her breath catch in her throat. “Oh my God.” Henry looked on in concern as she sunk into the nearest seat, a sofa outside her office. Her hand came up and covered her mouth as she listened for a moment. “Okay. Well, thank you for letting me know...yeah. You too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She kept the phone to her ear until Isabelle ended the call. Slowly, it made its way to her lap, where she stared at it in despair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry didn’t know what to say. He sat down beside her on the sofa. “Are you okay?” he finally asked, leaving it open for her to say as much or as little as she wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she said quickly. Then she looked up at his eyes, seeing nothing but genuine concern and warmth. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “A friend of mine from the Company, he was in a car accident. He was 42.” She didn’t have to say anything else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry sighed, wishing he could take away the pain in her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he said. He knew it wasn’t enough. His hand between them moved infinitesimally toward her as he itched to comfort her. It was like she sensed it; abruptly, she stood up and started again for her office door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to change,” she choked out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he said quietly. He knew it was time for him to go, to let her have some privacy. There was nothing he could do.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  
  <span>Around noon the next day, Elizabeth poked her head into Henry’s office. “Henry?” Seeing that he was on the phone, she began to retreat. "Take your time, I'll just-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, it's okay," he said. Then into the phone, "Listen, honey, I got to go, okay? It's work. But I'm still seeing you next weekend, right?" Whatever was said on the other end brought the corner of his lip up. "Perfect. I can't wait. But we will talk about this then, alright? Okay. I love you. Bye," he said, standing up to face the secretary.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sorry," said Elizabeth. "I didn't mean to interrupt...anything."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry shook his head. "Not at all. What's up?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I just wanted to let you know, you can stop worrying about Everard Burke. I've figured out how we're going to protect Ambassador Wellington without his or the president's approval."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's great. I'm all ears."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth smiled, but she knew he wouldn't like what she said next. "We have a discretionary fund. I want to hire some private security contractors."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Like Vesuvian? You think that's the right move?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I do."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You hate Vesuvian. I read your papers when I vetted you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth waved a hand dismissively. "That was academia. You understand that the real world is different, you were a professor."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, an ethics professor. I try to stick to what I believe. I would advise against this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth nodded. "Yeah. Unfortunately, I'm out of options. I'm gonna have to lose some brownie points in your ethics book today," she said with a half-smile, already preparing to debate him in her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sure you'll find a way to earn 'em back," he returned, with a gleam of playfulness in his eye that stopped her thought process entirely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded. "Okay. Great," she said, turning on her heel to go back to her office.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The next day was a busy one at the State Department. The ambassador had been attacked, and he was still missing. It finally got to the point of wait-and-see, so the secretary was sending everyone home for the night. Henry was pleasantly surprised when Stevie called him on his way out of his office. It was rare for them to talk two days in a row. He answered it as he walked through the lobby, seeing the Secretary on the elevator. She saw him coming just as the doors began to shut and held them open for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, sweetheart, what's up?" He nodded his thanks as he stepped on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't believe you guys," said Stevie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Excuse me?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth couldn’t hear what the other person on the phone was saying, but her eyes widened slightly at Henry’s offended tone. She busied herself in looking at her phone and trying not to eavesdrop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The State Department," Stevie clarified. "You used Vesuvian? They're mercenaries. They're completely corrupt."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You have to understand, Vesuvian was our only option."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth looked up. Whoever was in Henry's ear sounded like she--Elizabeth assumed it was a she--shared Henry's thoughts about private security contractors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why didn't you send troops? Secretary McCord hates Vesuvian. She railed against them in an article like a year ago."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay, first of all, you read the news too much. Second of all," he made eye contact with Elizabeth. "The secretary knows the difference between academia and the real world." She raised her brows as he made the argument she'd had with him 24 hours ago. "And she would absolutely send troops if we lived in a different country, but around here there's a little thing called checks and balances." He watched as Elizabeth smiled brightly at that. Her eyes almost seemed to sparkle. The elevator dinged their arrival on the first floor. The two stepped off and Henry tried to wrap it up before Elizabeth left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes. Well, sometimes in government work you have to do things you don't believe in to protect the things you do. I gotta go now, but you can judge me all you want on Friday in person. Okay. Love you too."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hung up the phone and turned to face the secretary as they entered the cold night air. "Sorry about that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shook her head. "Not at all. 'You have to do things you don't believe in to protect the things you do.' That's a pretty good line. You should put it in your memoir."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry laughed. "Thanks."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You know, it sounded like you were having a pretty similar discussion to the one you and I had yesterday. You switched sides?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I still don't like Vesuvian. But I work for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I'm on </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> side."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She felt her cheeks warm. "That's...very kind of you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gave her a half-shrug. "Good night, ma'am."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Night, Henry."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Someone left a review on FFN saying that I shouldn't hold out on the E/H fluff for too long...sorry, friend. It's gonna be a little while. But I try to sprinkle some drops of cuteness where I can. Thank you for reading and commenting!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Elizabeth is tired. That's it, that's the chapter.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You might have noticed that I posted this chapter and then deleted it. There was just a formatting issue I had to fix.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Good morning, Madam Secretary,” said Blake as Elizabeth got off the elevator. “I hope you got some sleep?”</p><p>She barked a laugh. “Yeah, about 3 hours. You?”</p><p>“I wish. Coffee? I took the liberty of adding a shot of espresso to your regular.”</p><p>Elizabeth gratefully accepted the warm cup and took a sip. “You’re a godsend, Blake. What does my day look like?”</p><p>“Well, Nadine requested we move senior staff to 9:00. She’s on a call with Minister Shimbakura’s chief of staff. Jay is in your office waiting to brief you on China’s latest demands. The memorial service has been scheduled for 10:00. You have a meeting with Minister Chen at 11:00, followed by Minister Shimbakura at 12:00. We didn’t expect the meeting with Minister Chen to last longer than half an hour--”</p><p>“But you wanted to make sure he was out of the building before the Japanese get here. Thanks for that.”</p><p>“The rest of your schedule was mostly cleared to make room for the inevitable back-and-forth with the Chinese, but you did have one appointment at 4:00 that I didn’t think we should cancel.”</p><p>“Sounds great, Blake. You said...Jay’s in my office?”</p><p>“Yes, ma’am,” he said.</p><p>She nodded blankly, and then shook her head, trying to jerk some life into her tired face before she entered her office. It was going to be a long day.</p><hr/><p>“Madam Secretary?” Blake looked up when he saw her enter the bullpen. “I’m so sorry about the treaty.”</p><p>“Yeah, we all are.”</p><p>“Nevertheless...your 4:00 is here.”</p><p>Elizabeth looked at her watch. “It’s a quarter till 5:00.”</p><p>Blake smiled tightly. “Yes.”</p><p>She sighed and headed for the door. When she opened it, she found Alison lounging on her sofa, phone in hand. “Alison?”</p><p>“Hey, Mom.”</p><p>“Ali, baby, I’m sorry. It’s- the Chinese pulled out of our treaty at the last possible second. I’m really sorry. It’s been a rough couple of days, but it won’t always be like this.”</p><p>Alison looked up from her phone with a sympathetic smile and stood up. “I know. And I forgive you. I know the treaty is really important. But the reason I’m here is because I wanted to see if you were cool with me having a sleepover this weekend. I’d keep it small. Just like...five or six of my friends from school.”</p><p>“Wh- five or six? That’s, I mean, yeah. Sure.”</p><p>“Thank you so much!” Alison beamed at her mother before wrapping her in a tight hug. “So, can I tell my friends 6:00 on Friday?”</p><p>Elizabeth returned the hug warmly and then pulled back to look Alison in the eye. “Yes. I will be there, and I won’t hover. Should I cook?” </p><p>“Mom. I was actually thinking of ordering some pizza? That way you can just relax, be in the house for adult supervision purposes, but without doing any, you know--”</p><p>“Adult supervising?” She smiled. “Understood."</p><p>"Thanks, Mom," said Alison. She tilted her head, frowning slightly. "Are you okay? You look kind of awful."</p><p>"Yeah, I'm okay. It's been a rough week with this treaty. I haven't gotten much sleep."</p><p>Alison peered closely at her. "Is that all?"</p><p>Elizabeth brushed a hand through her daughter's hair. "No," she admitted with a sigh. "George's memorial service was this morning. It hit me harder than I expected."</p><p>"I'm sorry, Mom."</p><p>"Thanks. Part of it was...was missing him, but there was another part too." She sat back on her desk as she searched for the words. "It's like seeing Isabelle and Juliet made me realize how lonely I've been feeling."</p><p>Alison didn't know what to say, so she just hugged her mom again and held on tight. "You should see them more often," she said.</p><p>"Yeah." Elizabeth rubbed her hand up and down Alison's back. "I should."</p><hr/><p>Somehow, Elizabeth managed to get home Friday night in time for her daughter's sleepover. Despite having no idea how to keep China happy, she was pretty confident she could keep six teenage girls happy. She made popcorn, made Jason promise not to intrude, and tried not to hover. </p><p>“Do you girls need anything else? Pillows, blankets?”</p><p>Alison gave her a sharp look. “Mom, we’re fine.”</p><p>“Thanks, Mrs. Adams,” said the one to her left. Elizabeth thought her name was Ella. “Sorry, I mean Madam Secretary.”</p><p>“You don’t have to call her that,” Alison said quickly.</p><p>Elizabeth smiled. “Mrs. Adams is perfectly fine. So is Elizabeth.” Alison was still staring at her. “Okay, I’m going, I’m going. Just let me know if you need anything.” Just then, her phone buzzed. </p><p>“Perfect timing,” said Alison.</p><p>Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she answered it, taking it into the kitchen. “Nadine, what’s up?”</p><p>“Xinpei’s mother was taken in for questioning by the Chinese secret police yesterday. We’re getting reports that she died while in custody.”</p><p>“God. Okay, have Minister Chen come to my office. Not an invitation. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”</p><p>“Yes ma’am.”</p><p>“Ali?”</p><p>“Yeah, mom?” Alison paused the movie they were watching.</p><p>“I have to go back to work. I’m so sorry. There’s been a new development.”</p><hr/><p>It was Sunday night when Elizabeth managed to carve out some time to take Alison's suggestion to see her friends more often. She and Isabelle sat on the couch with drinks in hand and talked for hours.</p><p>"Are you okay, Bess?” asked Isabelle after a couple drinks. “You look tired." </p><p>Elizabeth set her glass down on the coffee table, a bit harder than intended. "God, why does everyone keep saying that? Yes, I'm tired!"</p><p>Isabelle pursed her lips, setting her own glass down right next to Elizabeth's. She didn't say anything, just stared her down and waited.</p><p>Elizabeth was already regretting it. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I really--" she gave a joyless laugh. "I really am tired. This week with the treaty, it's been a lot of all-nighters. It feels like I'm holding the world together with my bare hands and I… I almost lost my grip."</p><p>Elizabeth recognized Isabelle's interrogation technique: don't respond, just wait, and they're bound to give up more. But she welcomed the opportunity to get some things off her chest, so she continued. "Then there's George, of course. I've been thinking a lot about him. And I just feel like I'm working harder than I've ever worked, and things are still falling through the cracks. Alison had to make an <em> appointment </em> so she could ask permission to have a sleepover, which I had to leave in the middle of so I could get back to the office."</p><p>"Well, you know teenage girls. I'm sure she welcomed the privacy," Isabelle offered.</p><p>Elizabeth nodded. "Yeah." She took a sip of scotch. "But I still feel like I'm not there for them enough. Thanks for checking in on them this week, by the way."</p><p>"It's no problem. I swoop in, make sure they're behaving, and swoop out. I never let them know when I'm coming, so it's like a surprise health inspection." She winked, downing the rest of her glass.</p><p>Elizabeth emptied hers as well, and stood to take their glasses into the kitchen. "Sometimes I wonder how you've done it all these years, Isabelle. I've barely managed a month and I feel like I'm falling apart at the seams."</p><p>"Well, I work for the CIA," she said, following her into the kitchen. "You're the Secretary of State. Not exactly the same thing."</p><p>"That's not what I mean. How do you do the important work that you do and not carry it around with you? <em> That </em> part is the same." Elizabeth set the glasses on the counter and leaned against it.</p><p>"Again. I work at The Company. And so did you, for over 20 years, so that's not what you mean either. What's different now than it was then?" The even firmness in her voice and the look in her eye told Elizabeth that she knew the answer, but she wanted to hear her say it.</p><p>"Well," Elizabeth looked down at the countertop, "when I was at the company, I had Mark. I mean, even when I couldn’t talk to him about anything, he could lighten the load a little. It helped.”</p><p>“So your real question?”</p><p>“How do you do the work that you do without someone to come home to at the end of the day?”</p><p>Isabelle looked at her sweet, vulnerable friend and let out a small sigh. “Well, I have to compartmentalize. You have to keep work and home separate as much as possible. You can’t let yourself wonder how Jason feels about your last press conference, or worry if Alison feels pressured by you like Xinpei felt from her mom.”</p><p>Elizabeth gave her a sheepish look. “Okay, you know you just totally called me out. But what about when they <em> do </em> overlap? I mean, Jason painted a big “V” on his door when the Viper cables came out.”</p><p>Isabelle laughed at that. “Yeah, sounds like him. Well, I also have some pretty good friends that I can turn to, when they actually talk to me.”</p><p>Elizabeth gave a lopsided grin. “I kinda ditched you guys, didn’t I?”</p><p>“A little.”</p><p>“I’m sorry. Add it to the list of things I was sure I wouldn’t do when I started this job.”</p><p>“It’s okay. Juliet and I understand. I mean, she couldn’t even be here tonight. I gathered that she had some classified meeting. We do miss you though.”</p><p>“I know. I miss you guys too. Especially since George died. You know, I saw an employee of mine cry today about missing Marsh.” She slowly shook her head. “It made me realize that I haven’t even cried about George. Is this job making me into such a monster that I’m not even sad over my own friend’s death?”</p><p>“Oh, please,” said Isabelle, studying her face. “You’re <em> miserable </em>. Come here.” She stepped around the kitchen island, arms outstretched. Elizabeth hesitated for just a moment before she stepped forward, falling into Isabelle’s waiting embrace.</p><p>Elizabeth finally let out what she had been holding in since she had gotten the news. Tears seeped into Isabelle’s blouse, but she just held on even tighter.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Elizabeth is NOT subtle. Also, she meets Stephanie McCord! Takes place in the beginning of S1E5, "Blame Canada."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Some of you noticed a mistake in the last chapter. Just to be clear, Elizabeth's last name in this universe is Adams, not McCord! Sorry about that, and thanks to those of you who pointed it out. Enjoy this next chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So we’re going with ‘The peace talks in Vienna with Iran are continuing?’” Asked Matt when Elizabeth got to the State Department for Senior Staff. She had been in the situation room 20 minutes ago with the President and on SVTC with Allen Bollings, the Chief Negotiator for the Middle East Peace Talks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And we continue to look for progress,” Daisy added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we can’t say ‘continue’ twice; it sounds desperate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just keep it short and simple,” said Nadine. “Nothing to sound the alarms.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The meeting hadn’t gone well. “We’ve given them 48 hours to shut down the reactor,” said Elizabeth. “After that, say a prayer to whatever God you pray to by whatever name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why’d you look at me when you said that?” asked Henry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you got to admit,” said Jay, “it’s kind of your department.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re in good hands with Mr. Bollings, ma’am,” said Nadine, bringing the conversation back to work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daisy cut in. “As a U.S. Special Envoy, he negotiated the peace settlement in Ireland, brought about the agreement in Kosovo--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And he’s rumoured to be on the short list for a Nobel prize,” added Matt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I’ve heard. A lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the end of the meeting, while everyone stood and gathered their things, Elizabeth stayed seated, keeping her eyes on Henry across from her. He returned her gaze and stayed put while the rest of the staff filtered out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something you want to say?” he asked. “I felt like you were sending me a secret message.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She suppressed a smile. “I was. I wanted to ask your opinion on Allen Bollings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry tapped his fingers on the table for a moment. “These guys seem very loyal to him. And they’re not wrong about his bio. It’s pretty impressive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. But that’s why I’m asking </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I think most of the people in this building would stand firmly by any decision made by their former boss. You’ve sat in on some of my meetings with him. What’s your read on him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry thought for a moment. “Honestly? I think he’s all bad cop and no good. He rushes to using leverage instead of inducements, and he paints the Iranians with a very harsh brush.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry leaned forward in his chair with a look on his face that made Elizabeth feel like she had just walked into his lecture hall. The thought of it made her breath catch in her throat. “In my experience,” he said, “as I’ve studied the Middle East and worked in that kind of intel, I come across a very specific type of guy. Patriotic to his core, but angry. And directing his anger toward Iran, or Syria, whatever country he has a grudge against. Confucius said, ‘A great man is hard on himself. A small man is hard on others.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth smiled. “So you think Allen Bollings is a small man?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry shrugged. “You asked for my read on him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah I did. Thank you, Henry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, she stood to leave, just as Blake came in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dr. McCord?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Blake?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just confirming that you’re on the list for the party tonight. Any plus one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth stopped by the coffee station, perusing the pastries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, you really ought to call me Henry,” he said. Elizabeth remembered when he had told her that, and she smiled. “I’ll be there. Just me though, no plus one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she could stop herself, Elizabeth looked up at him. They locked eyes for a moment before she tore her gaze back to the cronut she had been supposedly examining. She wondered if she’d been made. “Got it,” said Blake, making a note. “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake left, and Henry went to pour himself some coffee, glancing up at Elizabeth. “Surprised?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” she responded, a little too quick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I told Blake no plus one. You made kind of a face,” he said pressing his brows together and tilting his head to mimic the face Elizabeth had made moments ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth shrugged. “Oh. Well, I thought you’d bring your…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked sheepish. “I heard you call someone ‘Honey’ on the phone. I just assumed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Henry laughed. “Must’ve been my daughter. Stephanie. She’s coming home this weekend.” He looked at his watch. “In about two hours, actually. She has just one early-morning class on Fridays.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, of course. I’m sure you told me about her. Wait.” Elizabeth thought for a moment. “So it’s your </span>
  <em>
    <span>daughter</span>
  </em>
  <span> who hates my policies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, she didn't like the Vesuvian thing. And she's not exactly shy about disagreeing with </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> of your policies. For the most part, she's a fan of yours."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I can live with that. She’s in college?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry nodded. “A sophomore at Lovell,” he said, sipping his coffee. "She's a psychology major."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does she like it there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For the most part. She was in--well, she organized a protest last week after they changed their admissions policy from need-blind to need-aware.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth laughed. “Standing up for her beliefs. She’s definitely yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Well, we’re going to have a discussion about it this weekend. It’s not really like her, you know? I want to make sure everything’s alright."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well you should have her stop by the office on the way home."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely. If she’s anything like her father, I’ll be thrilled to meet her.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Henry got a text from Stevie a couple hours later.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Hey can you come sign me in? Security is super serious</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry smiled as he typed his response.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Np. Be right there.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He found her waiting in the lobby. “Stevie!” He called. She looked up from the guard she was clearly not happy with, and her mouth broke into a wide grin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad! Come rescue me, please.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry about this, sir. You know the protocol.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem, Randy. Here,” he said, showing the man his 7th floor pass. “Sign her in on appointment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man waved Stephanie through and Henry put his arm around her as they walked to the elevator. “On appointment?” she asked. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, they’re pretty serious about protecting the Secretary of State. Not to mention the other heads of state who come in and out of the building every day.” He pressed the elevator button for the 7th floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you get to meet a lot of powerful people, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right. And today…” he stepped off the elevator and held out a hand. “...so do you. The Secretary is anticipating you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie’s eyes widened. “Wait, really? I get to meet Secretary Adams?” She grabbed his hand, and he pulled her toward the Secretary’s office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Blake, this is my daughter, Stevie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake stood up and put on his “welcoming assistant” face. “Hi, Blake Moran. It’s so nice to meet you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie shook his hand. “You too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blake, is the Secretary busy right now? She asked me to introduce Stevie when she got here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake took a glance at his notes despite having her schedule memorized. “She’s reading the pipeline report right now. I am sure she will welcome the interruption. Knock first?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry nodded. “Thanks.” Then, to Stevie, “shall we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I--I guess go. Do I look okay? Oh my god, I’ve been in the car for four hours. I didn’t know I would be meeting the most powerful diplomat in the world today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look beautiful.” He knocked on the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in,” called Elizabeth, rising from her desk just as Henry opened the door and came in, with Stevie just a step and a half behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is my boss. Secretary Elizabeth Adams. Madam Secretary, this is my daughter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Madam Secretary,” said Stevie, shaking her hand. “It’s an absolute honor to meet you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, the pleasure’s all mine, Stephanie. And don’t worry about that ‘most powerful diplomat’ stuff, that’s just to scare off the enemy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie laughed nervously. “You heard that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Worse things have been overheard from outside that door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I bet. Wow, I can’t believe I’m meeting you. My dad, uh, kinda sprung it on me about 45 seconds ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it was my idea. I’ve heard great things about you, Stephanie. How are you liking Lovell?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stephanie couldn’t help but let her eyes stray as she took in the Secretary of State’s office. “Well, I like it. I mean there was this thing recently--they adopted a policy that I don’t exactly agree with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, because it’s totally unethical, right? The need-aware thing? I think it’s good that you stood up for your beliefs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie threw a sideways glance at her dad. She didn’t know he'd told the Secretary so much about her. “Well, I mean, if UVA had that when my dad went there, they might not have accepted him. He might not even be working here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we can’t have that can we?” Elizabeth replied, making eye contact with Henry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie watched the look that passed between them, but she didn’t say anything. “So what do you do here? Like, on a normal day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…” Elizabeth thought back. “This morning I had a meeting at the White House with the president, and the joint chiefs in the Sit Room. We were on a video call with the chief negotiator for the Middle East peace talks. I’ve been going back and forth all day with Canada’s passive-aggressive ambassador over a pipeline report, but tonight they’re throwing me a party at their embassy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re mad at you and throwing you a party? That’s very Canadian of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. Well, your dad’s going to be there, so he can tell you all about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Stevie smiled at him. “Your job is way cooler than I thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, here’s a thought,” said Elizabeth, eyes lighting up. “Why don’t you come? He’s allowed a plus one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie’s mouth fell open. “Are you kidding me? Is she kidding me?” She looked at Henry, who was looking at Elizabeth like she’d hung the stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not kidding,” said Elizabeth. “I can’t wait to see you there.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In chapter 7 you'll get to see the actual party. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stevie notices that some kind of secret diplomacy tactic is happening behind the scenes at the party...and that's not the only thing she notices.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Elizabeth sipped her champagne and tried to look interested as the Canadian Ambassador droned on about ice. Looking behind him, she saw Henry enter the room looking very...professional, in his tux. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Henry,” Elizabeth called. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up, saw her help-me eyes, and quickly made his way over. Stephanie followed closely behind him, wearing a classy deep red evening gown that hugged her waist and then flared out toward the floor. “Stevie,” he whispered, “how would you like to go rescue the Secretary of State?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Ambassador, have you met my policy advisor? This is Dr. Henry McCord. Henry, this is Ambassador Lester Clark. We were just talking about ice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ambassador politely shook his hand. “Why, no I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Ambassador.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did meet Mr. Whitman. I thought he was your policy advisor?” He looked at the Secretary, but Henry answered him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jay knows much more about politics and protocol than I do. My focus is more on religion and culture.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth patted his arm. “He’s being modest. Henry is an expert in every religion you’ve never heard of, and he has a wealth of experience in government work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, and who is this lovely young lady?” he asked, looking at Stevie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stevie. I’m his daughter,” she said, nodding in Henry’s direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lovely to meet you. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he gave a knowing look to the secretary, “I’ll just go make sure everything is in order.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Elizabeth saw the questioning look on Stevie’s face and moved to change the subject. “Stephanie, you look gorgeous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thank you!” Stevie blushed. “I just got this dress today. Didn’t really know I would be attending this fancy shindig. But you look...amazing in that dress.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks. It has pockets,” said Elizabeth, sticking a hand in to prove her point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You both look lovely,” said Henry. He leaned in and said just to Elizabeth, “you wear ‘brink of disaster’ very well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie didn’t hear what he said, but she saw the secretary laugh, and it wasn’t just a polite laugh. She seemed totally at ease with him. “I’m sorry, Stephanie, but I have to step out for a moment. Enjoy the party.” With that, she walked off in the same direction the ambassador had gone. It made Stevie wonder what was going on there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Henry. You ready?” Stevie turned and saw the Secretary’s chief of staff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” said Henry. “I’m supposed to ask you to dance. To create a…” he looked at Stevie as if remembering that she was there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know what secret diplomacy thing is going on right now, but I’m going to go get another cocktail.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, make that a virgin cocktail, will you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Dad.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Henry had helped himself to more than a glass of champagne at the event that night, so Stevie drove them back to the little house they’d lived in since she was 3 years old. Her earliest memories were of living in that house with her parents, but the ones of her mother were faintest. It was crazy how much had changed since she left for college. Her dad had gone from a department no one had ever heard of to an office on the 7th floor of the Truman Building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked over at him. “So those were some pretty nice moves with the chief of staff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lifted his head from where he’d been leaning it against the car window. “You think so? Well, she did all the fancy stuff. I don’t know her too well, but I hear rumours that she used to dance professionally.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you seemed to enjoy yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? If you think there’s something between me and Nadine--” Henry shot her an incredulous look, which she caught in the mirror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I didn’t mean it like that. Just that you seem really happy. With the job, the party, interacting with adults.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah,” he replied, dropping his defensive tone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides,” Stevie continued, keeping her eyes on the road, “I know which co-worker you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> interested in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” The defensive tone was back, shooting his voice up half an octave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Dad.” Stevie turned the car onto their street. “I’ve seen you and Secretary Adams. I have eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tha--I--You don’t know what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh--buh--d--don’t I?”she countered, mimicking the stammer that gave him away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, first of all, she’s not just another co-worker. She’s my boss, not to mention the Secretary of State.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Appointed officials still have feelings, Dad,” said Stevie as she pulled into the driveway. She put the car in park and turned to face him. “And hers happen to be directed toward you. Are you saying I’m wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m saying it--what you’re implying-- would be totally unethical. Not to mention scandalous, if the press got a whiff of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you didn’t answer my question,” said Stevie. She unbuckled her seatbelt. “But you’re probably right. I mean,” she gave him a look like she knew she had won. “Clearly, you’ve given the topic a lot of thought.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie opened her door and went inside, leaving her dad gaping in the car.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Elizabeth had an announcement to make at the end of the next day’s morning meeting. “Allen Bollings is resigning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the eyes of her staff were on her. Nadine was the first to react. “Ma’am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He told me personally this morning,” she said, not looking up from the briefing book in front of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was his reason, ma’am?” asked Daisy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Personal reasons. His office will be sending over a statement, but...he needs more time with his family, he wants to be there for his kids, something like that.” She looked up at Daisy. “Got it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daisy nodded. “Got it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll begin reviewing resumes for his replacement,” said Nadine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great. You know what? Have Henry help you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nadine looked at the Secretary, brows raised, and then at Henry. “Yes, ma’am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Nadine. Is there anything else?” she asked, addressing the whole room. When no one answered, she closed her book. “Great. Thanks, guys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a round of “Thank you Madam Secretary”s as the staff got their things together and left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth stood up to leave. “Henry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ma’am?” She jerked her head in the direction of her office, and he followed her in. He expected her to go to her desk, so when she made an about-face to look him in the eye, he had to stop abruptly in order not to run into her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much can I trust you, Henry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With your life,” he replied without a moment’s hesitation. “And your career, of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The corner of her mouth quirked upward. “The latter will be sufficient.” She seemed to appraise him for a moment, before she sighed and moved to sit behind her desk. He felt the tension in the room relax a bit. “I fired Allen Bollings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry nodded. “I can’t say I’m shocked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Please, sit,” she said, gesturing at the chair across from her. Henry pulled it out from the desk and took a seat. “Ambassador Javani told me Bollings never offered him the airplane parts. I confronted him about it this morning and he didn’t deny it. He was always angling for a military solution, and he was following orders from Secretary Marsh. He honestly believes that the only way to achieve peace is to blow the Iranians off the face of the planet. Anything less than full aggression...and we’ll all wake up to a mushroom cloud over Tel Aviv,” she said, echoing the words he’d said to her with such conviction only a couple of hours ago. The hollow sound in her voice told Henry he’d gotten to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s wrong,” said Henry, with even greater conviction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked at him. “I know. But it paints an unsettling picture of my predecessor. Besides Blake, you’re the only person on my staff who isn’t unwaveringly loyal to that man. Which means I’m going to have to trust you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need you to help me run an investigation on a State Department employee. I need it to be confidential.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry nodded. “Of course. A State Department employee by the name of?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nadine Tolliver.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I was really excited to post this chapter and see how y'all feel about me replacing Blake's role with Henry. Please let me know what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Henry and Elizabeth investigate Nadine. The staff preps for her first diplomatic trip.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Well, in that case, I think we have our list,” said Nadine. She and Henry had been working for a few days on reviewing the applications for Allen Bollings’ replacement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry moved the resume they had been looking at to the “no” pile and picked up the remaining ten. “Should I take these to the Secretary?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nadine nodded, opening her daily planner to see what was next on her plate. When she didn’t say anything, Henry took it as his cue to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made his way to the Secretary’s office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Madam Secretary?” Elizabeth heard Henry say, accompanied by a knock on the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry came in and approached her desk. “Nadine and I have been through all the applications. We’ve narrowed it down to the ten best candidates,” he said, holding up a stack of resumes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great. Give ‘em to Blake and have him set up interviews.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry nodded, moving to leave. “Henry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned back. “Yes, ma’am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Speaking of Nadine,” she leaned back in her chair and took off her reading glasses, setting them down on her desk. “How’s the other thing going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m halfway through her emails, calendar, and phone logs from her time with Secretary Marsh. So far there’s nothing noteworthy. I don’t think she suspects anything, although she seems a little pissed that you stuck her with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understandable. But Secretary Marsh, her old boss, was conspiring to undermine the Iran peace talks. I can’t risk her putting her thumb on the scale in picking our Chief Negotiator.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. You don’t wanna get stabbed in the back. If it’s any consolation, she didn’t seem to show any bias, or unusual predisposition toward a particular candidate. It was pretty straightforward, at least by my perception.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth nodded. “That’s good. Let me know if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>find anything noteworthy.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>A week later, he did. “Two weeks ago,” he explained to her, “Nadine had a 20-minute phone call on her work cell phone with Constantine Stahl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth reached for her heels, which were on the floor next to her office couch. “That’s an awfully long time to have a chat with one of Marsh’s biggest backers,” she said, slipping them onto her feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whose pet political cause is to bomb Iran,” added Henry. “Two weeks ago, you were--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scrambling to salvage the Iran peace talks.” She stood up, the untucked bottom of her white blouse flowing freely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there any conclusion to make besides the obvious one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That he was calling to pump her for intel on the talks?” She caught the hem of her shirt and shoved it into her black pencil skirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry’s eyes followed her hands, but he quickly snapped them up to her eyes, swallowing hard. “That would make her a spy. You think she’d take that call on a work phone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” she said, putting on a black blazer. “Is there any way to find out?” She pulled her hair out from under the collar. Henry could see one small piece still tucked in. “Is there any audio of the call?” she asked, making him realize he hadn’t answered her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, no. Just the record showing that it happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth sighed, pulling her bag onto her shoulder and heading for the door. “Well, then unless something definitive arises quickly to change my mind, I’ll have to pull her security clearance, pending a full investigation."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry watched her go. The little piece of hair was still there.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>"Knock knock," Elizabeth said as she entered Nadine's office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nadine looked up from her desk. "Madam Secretary? I was just about to pour myself a drink," she said, reaching for a second glass. “Would you care to join me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, why not?” Elizabeth flopped down onto the royal blue sofa. “Nadine, I came to tell you I had you investigated."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nadine looked up from the drink she was pouring, surprised. "I see. So that's why you had Henry babysit me on the negotiator?" she asked as she screwed the bottle shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry about that. I couldn't risk it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nadine handed the Secretary her glass and sat back against her desk. "And what did you find?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, there was a minute there that Henry thought you were leaking government secrets to Constantine Stahl,” she confessed, keeping her eyes on the glass as she swirled her scotch around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nadine raised a skeptical brow. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Henry</span>
  </em>
  <span> thought?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe I did too. But he reached out to an old friend at the Office of Ethics, who was able to track down the job offer."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I turned it down, obviously."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can't imagine why."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You tell Henry that I have a strong sense of duty."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth nodded. “I’ll be sure to do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a good soldier,” said Nadine, looking intently at her boss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Elizabeth took a sip of her scotch. “He is.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>"How are your kids, Bess?" asked Isabelle while they waited for their food at the next spy reunion dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They're...they're good. Still adjusting, I think, but they've both been very supportive."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So they were okay with you taking the job?" asked Juliet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you kidding? They had to talk me into it. I was going to turn Conrad down."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hang on a second," said Juliet incredulously. "You weren't going to take your perfect job?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, the last time Conrad Dalton offered me the job of my dreams, I took it, and it tore my family apart."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Come on, Bess." Isabelle placed a caring hand on her arm. "You can't seriously still blame yourself for that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth grimaced. "And yet…" She trailed off, looking at her hands as she toyed with the hem of her shirt. "Anyway, I was going to tell Conrad no right off the bat." She looked back up at them. "He literally wouldn't let me get the words out. Told me he wouldn't take no for an answer."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Juliet shared a smile with Isabelle. "Sounds like the same stubborn Conrad Dalton we knew at the Company."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know, it's strange to think about how much smaller these spy dinners have gotten," said Isabelle, suddenly somber. "First Dalton left to run for governor, then Munsey became director and stopped coming, and now George is dead."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth was sorry to see the pained look on her friend's face, but she was sure her own looked just the same. "It is weird." She broke eye contact and looked down at the tablecloth. "You know, George showed up at my house a couple days before he died."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isabelle frowned. "You never told us that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's cause I thought it was crazy. But the more I think about it…" she gulped down the rest of her wine and set her glass down with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thump</span>
  </em>
  <span>. "George told me he had uncovered a secret bank account in Caracas which belonged to Vincent Marsh. He believed Secretary Marsh was dirty, and that his death was part of a cover-up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Juliet looked shocked, but Isabelle was angry. "Why would you tell us that? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why </span>
  </em>
  <span>would you tell us that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because I'm starting an investigation into Marsh's death, and I want your help."</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The Secretary was out of the office one day, meeting with the President at Camp David, when Nadine summoned the staff to the conference room. They trickled in slowly, as they were all busy getting ready for her first official trip. She was set to leave for Turkey in only a week,  and the 7th floor had been a whirlwind of activity. Jay was the last to come in. “Hey, sorry I’m late. I had to cancel the call to Minister Canoglu’s Chief of Staff. You wanted me to talk to him about the schedule for the trip.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In that case, I caught you just in time. He would have had no idea what you were talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jay gave her a puzzled look as he sat in his usual spot at the conference table. Nadine looked around the room and addressed the entire staff. “We’re not going to Turkey. The President has...requested that we look to India instead.” Nadine’s announcement was met with groans. This was not a group of people who appreciated being baited and switched by the higher-ups.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry looked concerned. “Don’t you think that’ll offend the Turkish people?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luckily,” said Nadine, “The President had asked the Secretary to hold off on the official acceptance of his invitation. Turkey won’t know that they were the first choice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I’m confused,” said Daisy. “Why the sudden change?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"As far as you’re concerned, it’s because the President said so,” Nadine said firmly. “But it has a lot to do with representing the interests of certain American companies abroad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bingo,” said Jay. “I’m guessing one of Dalton’s donors is calling in a favor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hepanza Chemical is an American-based company with some facilities in India. We will be doing a visit to one of their factories in order to…” she trailed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Represent the interests of certain American companies abroad?” Henry offered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No matter the reason, it is happening, so we all need to act accordingly. Jay and Henry, I want you two to work with the Indian government to come up with a schedule and coordinate languaging. The President wants this trip to be about Indo-American partnership in industry and economy. Start working on a plan, and as soon as the Secretary has the official conversation with Prime Minister Saigal, you can start communicating with the Indian government.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” said Jay, “ in the meantime I can work with the Bureau of Asian Affairs and come up with a list of priorities.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry nodded. “And I’ll coordinate with our embassy in New Delhi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent,” said Nadine. “And Henry? I’d like you to draft a cultural awareness memo for everyone going on the trip. Basic information that we all need to know to avoid offending anyone or seeming ignorant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On it.” Henry and Jay left to begin working out a strategy as Nadine turned to Daisy and Matt to give them their assignments.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The Secretary got back to the office after an agonizing half hour of talking with the President and Ted Graham, the CEO of Hepanza Chemical, and found Henry waiting in her office. “Hey, Henry,” she said, shrugging her blazer off. “What’s up?” She moved behind her desk and laid it on the back of her chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just got off the phone with my sister, Maureen. My dad is supposed to have surgery the weekend after the trip, but he’s in a lot of pain and they’re moving it up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her face grew serious. “I’m so sorry, is your dad okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s just a knee problem that keeps coming back. He’ll be fine, but Maureen wants me to come lend a hand with him next weekend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, absolutely,” said Elizabeth, dismissing his guilty look with a wave of her hand. “Family comes first. Go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Thank you,” he said, starting to back away. He reached for the doorknob and then turned back. “The surgery isn’t until Friday, so I'll still be here when you leave."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sounds good," said Elizabeth, sitting down at her desk. "Whatever you need."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry left and shut the door behind him, letting out a long breath as he made his way back to his own office. He felt sick to his stomach when he thought about how easily she had believed him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ooh the drama! I know most (or all) of y'all probably know what's happening here, but still fun. Thanks for reading! Tell me your thoughts, they make me so happy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Henry offers to help Elizabeth with the Marsh investigation, but can she trust him?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"It just seems unreasonable to me that the President would hijack her first diplomatic trip to talk about a dye factory," Henry was saying.</p><p>"I'm not disagreeing with you," said Matt, peeling the paper liner off of a muffin. The Senior Staff had congregated at 8:30 for their usual morning meeting, but they were still waiting on Nadine and Elizabeth. "But it's our job to execute Dalton's foreign policy, whatever that may be."</p><p>"Yeah," said Jay, "and sometimes that includes sucking up to his biggest donors."</p><p>Matt shrugged. "We all serve at the pleasure."</p><p>"The pleasure of bureaucracy," muttered Blake.</p><p>"Welcome to the State Department," Daisy joked.</p><p>"A different world from the Office of Ethics, I'm guessing," said Blake.</p><p>Henry laughed. "Well, there was plenty of bureaucracy to go around back there too, that's for sure. We dealt with a lot less oversight, though. Technically, we kind of <em>were</em> the oversight. We didn't have to deal with what the press or the President thought of the work we were doing. Still." He smiled. "We didn't get to do this kind of work, either. Believe it or not, the Office of Government Ethics is not <em>quite</em> as cool as working for the Secretary of State."</p><p>"Hey, where is the secretary anyway?" Jay asked no one in particular. "It's 8:45. Isn't it weird for her to get to the office this late?"</p><p>"She's already here, she has been for almost two hours," said Blake, still typing on his laptop. He paused and looked up at Jay. "We're just waiting on Nadine to start the staff meeting. She's on a phone call."</p><p>"Two hours?" echoed Matt. "That's, like, the third day in a row that she's gotten here early."</p><p>Blake shrugged. "She told me she got behind on paperwork while scrambling to save the Iran talks. She's been catching up," he explained, just as Nadine came in with the Secretary to begin.</p><hr/><p>Henry followed the Secretary into her office when the meeting was over. She turned to look at him. "Can I help you?"</p><p>Henry shut the door behind him. "After you had me look into Nadine, you told me your next move was to investigate Marsh. I know that's why you've been getting here early."</p><p>"Okay?" Elizabeth placed both hands on her desk and leaned back against it. "Your point?"</p><p>"I want to help you."</p><p>She frowned. "Why?'</p><p>"Well, like you said, I'm the only person on Senior Staff who didn't work for Marsh, so you know I'm not biased. And...you shouldn't have to do it alone."</p><p>Elizabeth shook her head. "I appreciate it, Henry, but I don't want to involve you any further than I already have. Thanks for the offer," she said, moving behind her desk and expecting him to leave. She sat down, but he hadn't moved.</p><p>"The plane Vincent Marsh died in was a C-600 jet. It's not too different from the F/A-18's I flew in the Marines, and I knew every inch of that plane. I could be of real use to you."</p><p>Elizabeth gave him a hard look. "I'll think about it."</p><hr/><p>When Elizabeth left for India, Henry hadn't brought up Marsh since he'd offered her his help, and neither had she. She also hadn't heard from Juliet or Isabelle since she'd broached the topic with them. It was probably better for her to do it alone, anyway. At least she wouldn't be endangering anyone but herself.</p><p>She hadn't had much time to think about all of this since the earthquake had happened, but it was the first thing on her mind when she got a call from Isabelle two hours after the tremors subsided. "Hello?"</p><p>"Are you okay?" Isabelle sounded a bit breathless. "I've been calling off and on for hours. This is the first one that went through."</p><p>"I'm okay. The phone lines were down, they must have just gotten them working again."</p><p>"Thank God. I saw the earthquake on the news, and I was terrified, Bess."</p><p>Elizabeth chewed her lower lip. "I thought you'd still be angry with me."</p><p>"Of course I am. But fearing for your life trumps anger. Every time."</p><p>"Thank you," said Elizabeth. Her phone buzzed several times. "I was right about the phone lines," she said, pulling the phone away from her face to check her notifications. "I just got a whole lot of texts from my policy advisor and my press secretary. His dad just had surgery, and she had a family wedding. I bet they're not sorry they missed this."</p><p>"Well, I know you're busy. I just had to know that you were okay. Is there anything I can do?"</p><p>"Actually, yeah. I was gonna have Blake call the sitter, but since this is my first trip, she's still untested, and the kids are pretty shaken up. Could you pick them up from the airport?"</p><p>"Of course."</p><p>"You're a life-saver. They're supposed to land at 11:15, your time."</p><p>"Got it," said Isabelle. "Go save the world, Bess."</p><p>"Yeah, I'll do my best." She hung up on Isabelle and then read the string of texts from Henry.</p><p>
  <strong>Are you okay? I just heard.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I'm hoping you've just lost signal. When you get this tell me what I can do</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Heard from Blake. Glad everyone's okay.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Leaving Pittsburgh.</strong>
</p><p>Elizabeth sighed and typed out a response.</p><p>
  <strong>Sorry. Yes we're all okay. What about your dad?</strong>
</p><p>She watched the typing dots on her screen for a minute before he responded.</p><p>
  <strong>Got him settled in and left. He understood</strong>
</p><p>Elizabeth's fingers hovered over the screen for a minute before she typed out a quick response.</p><p>
  <strong>Good. I'm getting on a plane tonight.</strong>
</p><p>Elizabeth shoved the phone in her pocket and put her mind on other things.</p><hr/><p>Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep after her 15-hour flight home, but she went straight to the office, along with Nadine, Blake, Jay, and Matt. They were discussing the fire that had started at Hepanza after the earthquake as they made their way from the elevator to her office.</p><p>"If we don't tamp down the fire and plug the leak, hundreds of thousands of people risk exposure and death," Nadine was saying. "We have to get the hotshots in there right away."</p><p>When they got to Elizabeth's office, Henry and Daisy were in there waiting for them. They both stood when she entered.</p><p>"Madam Secretary," greeted Daisy, "it is good to see your face."</p><p>Henry looked serious. "We're really glad you're okay."</p><p>Elizabeth smiled grimly. "Thanks, guys," said Elizabeth, turning her attention back to Blake. "What about Hepanza's tank, do we know why it failed?"</p><hr/><p>Elizabeth managed to get home around 8:30. She couldn't wait to see her kids and fall into bed. "Hello?" she called as she opened the door. She heard footsteps, and Alison and Jason came to greet her.</p><p>"Mom!" they both called excitedly, and she quickly found herself wrapped in a warm embrace from both of them.</p><p>She laid a quick kiss on each of their heads before pulling back to look at their faces. "How are you guys? I'm sorry it took so long to get home."</p><p>"We're okay," said Allison softly, but her face was shadowed with sadness. "I've been watching the news. It's so bad over there."</p><p>"We saw your speech," said Jason. "It was cool. But how is the fire your fault?"</p><p>"Well, taking the blame was the best way to help India."</p><p>"It was a smart move," said Isabelle, appearing from the living room.</p><p>Elizabeth looked up at her in surprise. "You're still here? You didn't have to-"</p><p>"I didn't. I left once they were settled in, but I came back. I wanted to be here when you got back."</p><p>Elizabeth nodded. "Kids, is there any dinner left?"</p><p>"We had microwave dinners," said Jason. "You want one heated up?"</p><p>"Mmm, yes please." Jason went into the kitchen, and Alison also took her cue to exit, leaving Elizabeth and Isabelle in the foyer together.</p><p>"I've barely slept after what you told me," she said.</p><p>"I know the feeling." Elizabeth turned to walk into her study, moving a book out of the way to sit on her desk. "Juliet believes me."</p><p>"Juliet has two kids in preschool," said Isabelle, following her. "I think she wants to see them grow up."</p><p>"You know I'm right."</p><p>"George is dead, Bess. We don't want to be next."</p><p>Elizabeth looked at the floor for a moment before hopping back onto the ground to look her friend in the eye. "Then I'll do it alone."</p><p>"It's not that simple." Isabelle pulled an envelope out of her bag. "It was postmarked the day he died."</p><p>"George sent you this?" Elizabeth opened it, pulling out a $5 bill.</p><p>"He owed me for a valet a couple months back. Look," she said, flipping the bill over to reveal the word <strong>TAMERLANE</strong> written in block letters on the back.</p><p>"What does that mean?"</p><p>"I don't even know if he wrote it. But I think maybe he wanted me to help you."</p><p>"What are you saying," asked Elizabeth.</p><p>"Juliet's out. But I'm in."</p><p>Elizabeth smiled just slightly. "Good."</p><hr/><p>Once Isabelle had agreed to help Elizabeth with the investigation, they got right to work. Isabelle started coming over a couple times a week after the kids had gone to bed under the guise of hanging out as friends. Three weeks deep in the process, Isabelle got a hold of the black-box recording, and they sat in the living room listening.</p><p>"<em>We have hit severe C.A.T.," </em>the pilot had said. "<em>I think the stub trim's broken completely."</em></p><p>"<em>What the hell is going on?" </em>That was Vincent Marsh.</p><p>"<em>I've lost pitch control."</em></p><p>"<em>Can you get it back?"</em></p><p>"<em>The stabilizer's failed completely. I cannot keep us in the air."</em></p><p>"<em>So it goes."</em></p><p>Elizabeth looked sharply at Isabelle when she heard those words.</p><p>"<em>Losing altitude fast. No, no, no, no, no-" </em>that was where the recording cut off.</p><p>"Play back that last part," requested Elizabeth.</p><p>Isabelle hit a button on her laptop, and they listened again to the Secretary's last words. "<em>So it goes."</em></p><p>Isabelle stopped the recording there. "So it goes, huh?"</p><p>"He's pretty calm for a guy who thinks he's about to die."</p><p>"The NTSB didn't find the comment remarkable."</p><p>"They didn't have reason to."</p><p>"Well, Marsh doesn't exactly sound calm to me," said Isabelle. "More like he isn't surprised."</p><p>"You think he knew it was coming?"</p><p>"Do you? Does he sound like a guy who suspected foul play?"</p><p>"Well, George thought it was. I...two months after Marsh's plane went down, George stood right over there," she said, pointing at the spot in her foyer where she had last seen him alive. "And said that crash wasn't an accident, and that somebody at the CIA was behind it."</p><p>"And the next day he dies in a car crash."</p><p>"Yeah, that anybody with basic tradecraft skills could have made look like an accident."</p><p>"It reeks of foul play," Isabelle agreed.</p><p>Elizabeth stood up and crossed the room to pick up the large white folder she'd had Blake procure for her. "Well, I've got a 2,000 page NTSB report that concludes Vincent Marsh's plane crash was an accident."</p><p>Isabelle reached across the coffee table, and Elizabeth opened the folder and took out a chunk of pages to hand her. "We owe it to George to see if we can prove it wrong," said Isabelle.</p><p>Elizabeth pulled out her phone. "I'll order takeout."</p><p>An hour later, Elizabeth was reading the section of the report detailing the inner workings of the plane itself. Her head swirled as she tried to comprehend it. "Okay, it says here that the R-47 jackscrew in the tail assembly failed, taking out the horizontal stabilizers, resulting in an unrecoverable dive."</p><p>Isabelle looked up from the pages she had been reading. "Do you know what any of those words mean?" she asked, talking around a mouthful of fried rice.</p><p>Elizabeth huffed a laugh. "Not a clue."</p><p>Isabelle typed something on her laptop and hit enter. "Okay, 'the empennage, also known as the tail or tail assembly, is a structure at the rear of an aircraft that provides stability during flight, in a way similar to the feathers on an arrow." She scrolled down a bit and continued reading. "Structurally, the empennage consists of the entire tail assembly, including the tailfin, the tailplane, and the part of the fuselage to which these are attached. On an airliner this would be all the flying and control surfaces behind the rear pressure bulkhead."</p><p>Elizabeth took off her reading glasses and tossed them onto the coffee table. "Yeah, that's not helping."</p><p>Isabelle shook her head. "I mean, I can do some research, but I don't know how we're going to do this without someone who has an intimate knowledge in airplane design."</p><p>"You're right," said Elizabeth. "And I happen to know a guy."</p><p>Isabelle leaned forward. "Who?"</p><p>"One of my policy advisors. Dr. Henry McCord. He knows I'm investigating Marsh. He actually offered to help a few weeks ago. I didn't see the point at the time, but he was a pilot in the Marines once upon a time, and he could probably help us out."</p><p>"Hang on. I thought everybody on your staff used to work for Marsh."</p><p>"No, Henry's my hire. He worked in the Office of Government Ethics, and I met him during the vetting process. He helped me investigate Nadine, and managed to keep it quiet. I trust him, but why don't you do some digging? Make sure he's really clean as a whistle."</p><p>Isabelle nodded. "On it."</p><hr/><p>When Elizabeth walked into the bullpen a few days later, there was one thing on her mind. "Alright, Daisy, let me see," she said, rushing to where she stood with Nadine and Blake. Daisy was all too happy to hold out her left hand, which Elizabeth took hold of, admiring the gemstone that boldly labeled her as spoken-for. "Wow," Elizabeth breathed. "That is some serious carbon." She looked up at her. "Congratulations, really."</p><p>Daisy beamed. "Thank you, Madam Secretary."</p><p>Henry walked up behind her just then. "Hey, is this the famous rock?" He looked at it and then at Daisy, offering a small smile. "Nice. Congratulations."</p><p>He was met with disapproving looks from Nadine and Elizabeth. "No, that's not it," said the Secretary. "You have to fawn. You're not fawning enough."</p><p>Henry forced a wide smile and still managed to look unsure. "Uh, wow, Daisy! That's...amazing." He looked back at Elizabeth, who was laughing shamelessly at him.</p><p>She shared a look with Nadine and Daisy and then turned her eyes back to Henry. "We're women," Nadine said simply. "This is what we do. Senior Staff?"</p><p>Elizabeth nodded, turning her attention back to work. "Yes. Just give me a minute to drop my stuff in my office."</p><p>Elizabeth walked through her office, leaving her purse on a chair and going straight to the conference room, where her staff was beginning to gather.</p><p>She grabbed a donut from the coffee station and then sat in her usual chair as Daisy and Jay walked in and sat down. "Nadine?"</p><p>Nadine nodded and began the meeting. "Okay, first order of business: the situation in Moldova."</p><p>Elizabeth pulled out her phone to put it on silent and saw a text from Isabelle.</p><p>
  <strong>I found something on Henry. You're not gonna like it.</strong>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>...thoughts?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Isabelle has some damning evidence on Henry. Elizabeth is not happy about it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have exciting news: As of this chapter, this is the longest fic I've ever posted on any account, fandom, or site! Cue confetti canons or something. I've kind of surprised myself with the length of this, and it's still nowhere near finished! Hope you enjoy this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I remembered that you told me why Henry skipped the India trip,” said Isabelle. She had met Elizabeth at her house when she came home from work. Now they were sitting on Elizabeth’s couch and drinking coffee while Isabelle explained what she had dug up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, he told me his father was having surgery that weekend and he needed a hand,” said Elizabeth, sipping her coffee. She was already feeling queasy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Except that he didn’t have surgery that weekend.” She pulled out a file folder from her purse and opened it, revealing a copy of Patrick McCord’s hospital records.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth picked up a page. “Do I even want to know how you got this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. But it’s proof that Henry lied.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Elizabeth handed the paper back. “So he lied to me to get out of a trip. I don’t think that’s why you’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not,” said Isabelle, moving those pages to the back of the folder to reveal a photo underneath. “This is Henry at an archeological function the day his dad was supposedly having surgery. And the man he’s talking to is Klaus Von Muhlberg, currently wanted by about a dozen American and international intelligence agencies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth looked intently at the photo and then moved it aside to reveal more similar pictures. “Wanted for what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Conspiracy to commit acts of terror.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth set her mug back on the table and stood up. “Dammit.” She ran a hand through her hair, pacing. “Is there any way it’s just some kind of coincidence? Maybe they were just making polite conversation, or...” she trailed off and then looked back down at Isabelle, her face twisted into disappointment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A few days later, Henry went to Muhlberg’s house for some kind of dinner party and stayed long after the other guests had gone. Obviously, I’ll keep digging for more proof, but Bess. He’s dirty.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Elizabeth was used to clearing a path through a room when she walked, but when she marched through the bullpen the next morning, the radius was double what she was used to. Anyone could see from the look on her face that she was not to be trifled with. “Blake,” she snapped as she passed his desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake had stood up as soon as he saw her coming. “Yes, ma’am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell Henry I want him in my office,” she said, not stopping until she reached her door. “Now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth set her purse down on the coffee table and then turned around and faced the door, leaning back against her desk. She didn’t have to wait long. After a minute she watched the knob turn ever so slowly, like even the door itself was wary to be opened. She steeled her cool gaze on Henry the moment he came in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He saw her face and cleared his throat. “You wanted to see me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was such a good lie,” she said simply, her voice even and controlled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, your dad really was having surgery, just not that weekend.” Henry’s mouth fell open just slightly, but he didn’t say anything. She continued. “It was a half-truth. That’s deception 101.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Madam Secretary--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you make it about a parent on purpose? Because you knew where my soft spot was?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head as his face took on a pained expression. “No, I would never--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not finished. You know, I thought that guilty look on your face was just for missing the trip. But it was shame, wasn’t it? I appreciate that you at least have the heart to be ashamed of working with...Klaus, was it?” Henry’s eyes flashed recognition. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out my policy guy was working with a suspected terrorist?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not,” said Henry firmly, finding his voice. “It’s not what it looks like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t-- I can’t tell you. But I’m not working with him. You have to trust me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Funny, ‘cause that’s what you said when you offered to help me with the Marsh investigation. What was that, a ploy so you could keep an eye on me?” She was starting to lose her cool and calculated tone. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>trust you. Look what happened.” She took a step back, looking at the floor. She was annoyed with herself for losing control. “Obviously, I want to keep this under wraps until I learn the full scope of your...betrayal. I want you to go to your office and wait there while I find out what I’m going to do next. In the meantime…” she looked back up at him. “You can clean out your desk.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>An hour later, Elizabeth walked into the conference room where her senior staff was waiting for her. “Shall we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re still waiting on Henry, ma’am,” said Nadine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need,” she replied, taking her seat. “He’s busy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nadine nodded. She knew when not to ask questions, and this was one of those times. “Well, first on the agenda is our coffee Friday afternoon with Prime Minister Yispinza of Nauru.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt frowned. “I thought Yispinza was the President.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Matt and Daisy began arguing, Blake came in and handed Elizabeth a note.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Scary woman from the NSA says she needs to talk to you right away. Told me it was classified. She seems serious.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Elizabeth stood up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nadine stood up as well, along with everyone else at the table. “Madam Secretary?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth crumpled the note and shoved it in her pocket. “You guys keep going, I’m gonna have to step out for a second.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth walked into her office and found a young, dark-haired woman, dressed in a grey pantsuit. She was facing the window, but she turned when she heard the door open. “Madam Secretary,” she said, extending a hand. “I’m Sarah Eckhart. I work with the NSA.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth shook her hand warily. “Nice to meet you. How can I help you? My assistant indicated it was urgent? Please, sit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Agent Eckhart took a seat on the couch, with Elizabeth across from her. “It’s about your policy advisor, Dr. Henry McCord.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth leaned forward. “I’m listening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m Dr. McCord’s handler. He’s been working with us on gathering information on Klaus Von Muhlberg. He called me this morning to tell me you were planning to fire him, and I’ve been given permission to read you in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth’s look of shock quickly morphed into anger. “I’m sorry, you recruited a State Department employee without my knowledge?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Agent Eckhart was unfazed. “The mission was top secret.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought he was working with terrorists,” Elizabeth fumed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was regrettable. But we were working with permission from the White House Chief of Staff. We needed someone with the training who could viably walk up to Klaus at academic conferences.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hang on, Russell Jackson signed off on this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did. Take it up with him if you like,” she said with a shrug, standing. “Thank you for your time, Madam Secretary.” Elizabeth watched as Agent Eckhart confidently showed herself out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth waited a minute so she knew the agent would be gone before she made her own way out the door and down the hall to Henry’s office. She knocked on the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She let herself in the door and found him sitting at his desk, which was very much not cleaned out. He stood up when she came in, and it didn’t go unnoticed by her. He was still showing her respect. “I just spoke with Sarah Eckhart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “So you know I’m not a terrorist?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes. “Technically, I only accused you of working with terrorists.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mistake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Consider yourself un-fired,” she said, turning to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it?” She stopped, turning back to face him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What else is there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry opened his mouth to speak, but then he closed it, remembering who he was talking to. “Nothing. Thank you, Madam Secretary.” He paused for a minute, coming out from behind his desk to take a step closer. “For what it’s worth, I’m not working with them anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well that’s a relief,” she said dismissively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, you don’t believe me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You lied to me, Henry,” she said, taking a step forward as she finally released into the air the words that had been swirling in her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Under penalty of law. You know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You told me I could trust you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Look, I’ll be honest with you. I wanted the op to go on longer than it did, I offered to keep working with them. But Sarah was very clear that it was a one-time.” He took another step closer. “Look at my face. Use all your CIA interrogator skills. Am I lying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth could feel his breath on her face, and it made her voice stick in her throat for a second. She swallowed thickly before answering him. “No.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Elizabeth got home that night at around 6:30. “Hello?” she called out as she walked through her study to the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Mom,” said Alison. She was sitting on the couch with her feet tucked under her legs, looking at her phone. “How was work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was fine,” she said, turning toward the kitchen. “Have you guys eaten yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, we were waiting for you,” said Alison, following her into the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth opened the fridge and sighed, examined its contents. “Let’s see, we’ve got leftover pasta, eggs…” she closed the fridge and opened the freezer. “Hot pockets. This is pathetic. I really need to go grocery shopping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe for tonight we can just use DoorDash. Did you change the subject from work because you can’t talk about it or don’t want to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth shut the freezer and looked at her perceptive daughter. “Maybe I was just hungry. What do you feel like DoorDashing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alison hoisted herself up to sit on the counter. “I haven’t had Simple Greek in a while. Now, spill the tea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth pulled out her phone and opened the DoorDash app. “I fired somebody this morning,” she said, looking at her screen. The light from her phone caused a glare in her reading glasses. “Do you want a pita or a bowl?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alison was relentless. “Pita. Why’d you fire him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth put the phone down, giving in. “Okay, I can’t do two conversations anymore. I fired him because...he lied to me about something, and I thought it was because he had done something really terrible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You thought?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it turned out I was wrong, so I un-fired him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alison squinted, trying to read the expression on her mother’s face. “So, you feel bad for firing him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth crossed her arms. “No, I don’t feel bad. Why should I? He lied to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, did he have a good reason?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Elizabeth sighed. “A really good reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what would you have done in his place?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth thought for a minute. “The same thing,” she said honestly. “Okay, Socrates, maybe I do feel bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you at least apologized, right?” Alison asked. She was met with a grimace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Taking that as a no. Maybe you should.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I should,” Elizabeth echoed. She leaned in and gave Alison a kiss on the forehead. “Forget DoorDash,” she said, picking her purse back up from where she’d set it on the kitchen island. “I’ll pick up Simple Greek. Find out what Jason wants and send me your orders, okay?” Elizabeth made her way out of the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alison smiled. “My work here is done,” she called after her.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Henry had been home for about an hour and was sitting at his desk doing some research for his book when he heard the doorbell. He glanced at the clock--it was just after 7:00--and went to answer it. He looked through his peephole and was shocked to see Elizabeth Adams standing there, flanked by two DS agents, and holding a bottle of scotch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rushed to unlock the door and open it. “Madam Secretary?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Henry. This is for you,” she said, pressing the bottle into his hands. He brought it towards his chest and her eyes followed the plaid button down he wore along with the jeans he must’ve changed into after work. She’d never seen him in casual clothes before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dr. McCord,” said the agent to her left, “do you mind if I do a quick sweep? It’s protocol.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry moved to the side. “Go right ahead. I’ve got nothing to hide,” he added, making pointed eye contact with Elizabeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I came to apologize,” she said, “for calling you a terrorist. And for being angry with you after. If I’d have been in your shoes I wouldn’t have done any different. You did the right thing. I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She watched with bated breath as he considered her apology. The corners of his mouth slowly curved upward. “Technically, you only accused me of working with terrorists.” He watched her nervous features melt into a relaxed smile and felt the remnants of his annoyance melt away with them. He grew serious. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. You had to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The agent returned and nodded at both of them. “All clear, Madam Secretary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s one other thing, Henry. Can I come in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please,” he said, stepping back. She stepped into his front room and shut the door, leaving her agents outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m accepting your offer,” she told him, “to help with the Marsh investigation. That is,” the nervous look returned for a moment, “if it’s still valid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” he said. “Of course it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. “Good. For the record, that’s not why I came over here. I really meant that apology.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” he said seriously. “I can tell by your choice of scotch,” he added, holding up the green label bottle. “Who told you Johnnie Walker was my favorite?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did. You mentioned it once when we were talking about the Cognac that Minister Dubois gave me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was months ago,” he said, tilting his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged. “CIA.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at the bottle again. “Amy used to buy me one every Christmas. We would drink it on New Year’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amy?”</span>
</p><p><span>He smiled fondly. “My wife." He was silent for a moment, and then he cleared his throat. </span>“Anyway. I’m in. What do you need?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope the little scenes like that help tide you guys over! I know a lot of you are dying to see them get together, but I wasn't kidding when I called this a slow burn. I really loved reading some of the responses to the slight cliff-hanger in the last chapter, although I'm wondering how many of you guessed at what it was going to be about.</p><p>Anyway, thank you all for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Henry starts helping Elizabeth and Isabelle with the Marsh investigation.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On Monday night, a few days after Elizabeth had accepted Henry's offer to help with the Marsh investigation, she and Isabelle were sitting together on the couch trying to make sense of the NTSB report. "Maybe we should just wait for Henry," said Elizabeth. "He can probably tell us what this means."</p><p>"Yeah, maybe he can also explain your mysterious text. 'Henry's clean,'" she quoted. "Come on," she said, leaning in to nudge her with her shoulder. "Tell me what happened."</p><p>"I can't," said Elizabeth, not taking her eyes off the report, "it's classified."</p><p>"Okay, so he's a spy?'</p><p>"No. Well, he used to work for the NSA, I told you that."</p><p>"Right. Used to like 12 years ago or used to like, last month while you were in India?" Elizabeth didn't say anything. She didn't have to. Isabelle nodded. "Got it."</p><p>Elizabeth pulled out her phone and opened her text. "Security," she explained, looking up at her. "Henry's here."</p><p>She stood up and went to the front door, leaving Isabelle on the couch. "Hey, Henry," she said, opening the door, "come on in."</p><p>"Madam Secretary," he greeted, following her to the living room. Henry surveyed the stacks of pages lying around, covering the coffee table and much of the floor. "Wow."</p><p>Elizabeth chuckled. "This is just the tip of the iceberg." She looked around until her eyes fell on Isabelle. "Oh, sorry. Isabelle, this is Henry McCord, my policy advisor. Henry, this is Isabelle, my best friend and the best analyst at Langley."</p><p>"Yeah, only since she left," Isabelle said, accepting his handshake. "Welcome to the team. Hope you like Chinese food. It's a big part of what we do here."</p><p>"Are you kidding me? I think I lived on like 75% sweet and sour chicken in college."</p><p>"Perfect," said Elizabeth. "I'll make the order. Isabelle, you want to read Henry in?"</p><p>"Sure, no problem." Elizabeth stepped out to make the call.</p><p>Henry sat in a chair across from Isabelle and she began to summarize. "Six months ago, our friend and CIA analyst George Peters told Bess he thought Vincent Marsh was murdered. He had uncovered some secret bank accounts. He thought Marsh was dirty and that someone at the Company had him killed. The next day he died in an incredibly suspect car crash. Meanwhile, it turns out Marsh was conspiring to undermine the peace talks."</p><p>"Right, he was working with Allen Bollings," said Henry.</p><p>"He was also planning to run against Dalton in the next election, making him an enemy of the President."</p><p>Henry's face took on a grave look. "Did the President know he was planning to run?"</p><p>"Yes," said Elizabeth, returning from the kitchen. "And so did Russell Jackson, who showed up in my office this morning to try to bully me into minding my own business."</p><p>She sat down next to Isabelle, who picked up where she'd left off. "We have a copy of the blackbox recording from Marsh's plane. The pilot reported severe C.A.T. That's-"</p><p>"Clear air turbulence," Henry finished.</p><p>"Right." Elizabeth picked up the stack of papers nearest her on the coffee table. "This is the part that talks about the plane itself, which is where you come in," she said, handing it to him. "It says the crash was caused by a broken screw."</p><p>Henry's eyes scanned the page. "The R-47 jackscrew. It's more of a rod, actually. It's about an inch in diameter."</p><p>"There's only been one other incident with a C-600 jet in the past 15 years," said Elizabeth, "a crash in Dubai in 2003."</p><p>"With 5 Iranian nationals on board," added Isabelle, "including their top nuclear physicist. There was speculation that Mossad or the CIA was involved, but it was ruled an accident. Also caused by the R-47 jackscrew."</p><p>"So we're assuming someone sabotaged the screw, right?" asked Elizabeth.</p><p>Henry nodded, the gears turning. "That at least seems to be the obvious conclusion, yeah."</p><p>"Here's the problem. We did some research and determined that the only guys who had access to that screw were the five maintenance workers with expertise in tail section hydraulics."</p><p>"I ran deep background on all of them," said Isabelle. "Called in favors, came close to breaking laws. No red flags, no sudden influxes of money or secret banking accounts, no suspicious behavior."</p><p>"So that's where we got lost," said Elizabeth. "Who could have sabotaged the R-47 jackscrew, if not these guys?"</p><p>"No one," said Henry frankly. "You're right, those are the only people with access."</p><p>Isabelle gave him a puzzled look. "So that's it, you're saying it wasn't sabotage?"</p><p>"I'm saying it wasn't the R-47. I've done some research on the C-600." He saw Elizabeth's questioning look and shrugged. "I like to be prepared."</p><p>Elizabeth stared at him as he continued. "You said the pilot reported severe C.A.T.? So theoretically, if there was already metal fatigue on the jackscrew, the turbulence could push it to the breaking point."</p><p>"Which is the NTSB's conclusion," said Isabelle.</p><p>"So what if it wasn't C.A.T.? What if it was something else and the pilot mistook it for turbulence?"</p><p>Elizabeth was hooked. "Sabotage a <em>different</em> part of the plane in order to put stress on the jackscrew?"</p><p>"The pilot says it's turbulence, so the NTSB investigators never questioned it." Henry laughed at himself. "Look, I have no idea how any of this would be achieved, it's just a crazy theory."</p><p>"No, it's interesting. It's like a magic trick. And then the pilot unwittingly helps sell it by reporting turbulence."</p><p>"It would have to be a genius, like a diabolical saboteur out of a bond movie."</p><p>"Well," said Elizabeth, "if you were going to kill the Secretary of State, don't you think you'd want to hire one of those types?"</p><p>Isabelle took a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh. "Like I said. Welcome to the team."</p><p>Elizabeth was thinking. "Makes me wonder if the Dubai crash was caused by the same thing. That is, if Mossad really was involved. And I know how to find out."</p><p>"What are you going to do?" asked Isabelle.</p><p>"I'll bring in the Israeli delegation on Thursday in place of the Nauru coffee. Ambassador Dori was at Mossad when I was in the CIA. I'm sure he'll know something."</p><p>"Hang on." Henry did not look pleased. "That coffee's been on the books for months. Aren't you worried about offending Foreign Minister Yispinza?"</p><p>"This takes precedence. We'll worry about Nauru later."</p><hr/><p>On Tuesday morning, Matt showed up in Henry's office. He knocked lightly on the door before cracking it open. "Hey, Henry?"</p><p>"Yeah?" Henry took off his reading glasses and set them on his desk.</p><p>"Hey, so, what's up with the Secretary bringing in the Israelis at the last minute?"</p><p>Henry tilted his head. "No idea."</p><p>"Really, man? Come on, we all see how you are with the Secretary. Closed door meetings, pull-asides...look." He walked closer, laying a hand on the edge of Henry's desk. "You're her hire, and she trusts you. I get it. But it would help us all to do our jobs if you shared some of that information."</p><p>Henry held his hands out in a shrug. "I don't have any information. My guess is she's trying to smooth over some contention over the Iran talks, especially with the Iraqi delegation coming in next week. If I hear anything, I'll let you know, okay?"</p><p>Matt nodded, relenting. "Alright. I'd appreciate it if you did."</p><hr/><p>Henry was walking back from the break room as Elizabeth left the Israeli coffee the next day. "Hey, Henry?" He turned around when he heard his name and came closer. "Listen, I got your memo," she said, loud enough for anyone around them to hear. Then she leaned in and got much quieter. "I talked to Ambassador Dori. Your theory was right. We're going to need to look into the fueling technician. I'll let Isabelle know."</p><p>"Okay, thanks," he said.</p><p>Nadine came looking for the Secretary, having shown the Israeli delegation out. She saw her standing very close to Henry and whipering in his ear. It was something she saw a lot lately. "Madam Secretary," she said. She watched them unconsciously come apart a few inches at the sound of her voice. "I have tomorrow's finalized security protocol for your approval."</p><p>"Oh, good," Elizabeth said sarcastically. She looked at Henry. "I'm going to Alison's soccer game tomorrow, and it's been a bit of an ordeal. I think it almost took an act of congress."</p><p>Henry laughed. "Well, I'll let you get to that," he said, continuing down the hall toward his office.</p><p>"Thank you, Henry," Elizabeth called after him. She watched him go for a moment and then snapped out of her reverie and turned to Nadine. "Okay, let me see," she said, taking the file from Nadine and skimming the page as she began walking back to her own office. "Alright, perimeter, detail…" her eyes focused on one particular item. "A tent? Really?"</p><p>Nadine shrugged. "You told Fred to take whatever precautions he needed to, ma'am."</p><p>"I did." Elizabeth gave the file back to her. "Tell him it's fine. Anything else?"</p><p>"Not really, uh, we're still coordinating with Nauru, but it looks like the State Lunch is going to work out fine."</p><p>"Oh, good. I'm sure Glenn's happy. Especially since he's got another excuse to see you." They had reached her office, but she stood in front of the door and watched Nadine's surprised reaction.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Well," Elizabeth smiled, "he likes you."</p><p>"He does not. How would you know?"</p><p>"Years of spy training. Plus, you know, I'm a woman. I know when a guy's got a crush."</p><p>Nadine's eyes widened. "No, ma'am, I don't think you do."</p><p>"Fine," Elizabeth backed off, opening the door to the office and stepping inside. "You know I noticed he wasn't wearing a ring?" She held up a hand in surrender. "Okay, I'm done."</p><p>Nadine watched as she closed the door, and wondered how she could be so observant in one situation, and yet so...oblivious in another</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An awkward moment leads the Marsh investigation to relocate to Henry's house. Also, Henry gets stuck in a room with Nadine for a few hours, and she has a few words of advice.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Henry showed up at Elizabeth’s house late Thursday night, as per usual. She let him in the door and he followed her to the living room. “Isabelle’s not here yet?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s not coming. She’s getting things ready for tomorrow and couldn’t tell me where she’d be tonight. Said I need ‘plausible deniability.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry sat on the couch. “What about tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth took a seat on the opposite end. “Well, Ambassador Dori told me that to put pressure on the jackscrew, you’d need to take off the tail plate and strip the threads from the vertical stabilizer nut.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry nodded. “And since the tail plate’s removed during fueling--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’d have to be the fueler who did it. John Castellano.” She opened her briefcase and pulled out the photo Isabelle had given her. Henry scooted closer to take a look, so that he was just a foot away from her on the couch. “That’s what’s happening tomorrow. Isabelle is going to get him in a room for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to interrogate him yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t trust anyone else. And I think my position will give me an edge. There’s another thing I wanted to tell you,” she said. “Matt came to my office today to make a confession. Apparently, Russell had him spying on Marsh and feeding him information.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of information?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He had him writing policy speeches for his upcoming run for president, I guess he was getting ready to announce. But now Russell wants him spying on </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I told him to tell him yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry nodded, understanding. “So you can feed information you want Russell to have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” She stared into space for a minute, thinking. “Matt overheard a conversation between Russell and Marsh a few days before the plane crash. He told me Marsh accused the President of planning to turn on him, and you know what Russell said? ‘So it goes.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry’s eyes widened. “Those exact words? That’s what he said on the blackbox recording, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those words. Matt was sure of it.” She looked Henry in the face, her eyes wide with fear. “Ambassador Dori didn’t deny that the CIA was involved in the Dubai crash. If they were, then Dalton knew how to sabotage a C-600 and get away with it.” Her breathing grew heavy with the weight of her words. “I’m calling the President of the United States a murderer. I need you to tell me I’m wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry thought for a minute, his eyes not leaving her face. He had never seen her this vulnerable, and he wished he could do what she was asking. “I’m sorry, I got nothing. Look, Matt came into my office yesterday and asked me why you were bringing the Israelis in on such short notice. At the time, I thought--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what?” Elizabeth interrupted him, frowning. “You didn’t tell me this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, no, it didn’t seem important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At that point, Matt hadn’t decided yet not to spy on me for the President and Chief of Staff. I’d say that’s pretty important,” she said sharply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course it is, but I didn’t know that then. I didn’t think--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you should have.” Elizabeth kept her voice down for the sake of the kids upstairs, but her tone was getting increasingly angry, and Henry didn’t know why. “We still don’t know what happened on Marsh’s plane. We need to take </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>relevant into account.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know it was relevant,” Henry insisted. "Why are you getting so worked up over this?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because if Marsh was murdered, whoever did it had no problem killing the Secretary of State. I'm the one who has to live with that, Henry," she snapped. "And if I don't figure this out fast enough, then my kids…" her voice broke, and she stopped to take a deep breath, wiping her hands over her face before lowering them to her knee. "My kids are gonna have to live with it too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Following an instinct, Henry put his hands over hers. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>We</span>
  </em>
  <span> are going to figure it out,” he assured her. “Together. Isabelle’s working her spy magic on Castellano, and tomorrow you’re going to look him in the eye and know if he was involved. Then we’ll--” Henry stopped abruptly when Elizabeth jerked her hands out from under his, scooting away from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes were focused on something behind him. He turned, following her gaze to the staircase, where Jason was standing on the bottom step, looking at the two of them. “Hey, Mom...what’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth stood up, plastering on a smile. “Hey, Jason, you know Dr. McCord?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We met at the confirmation hearing,” said Henry. “Good to see you again, Jason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth crossed the living room and got to Jason, leaving Henry on the couch behind her. “Everything okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason frowned at her. “Yeah, I just couldn’t sleep. I came to get some water…why is he here at 11:00 at night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re just going over some work stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In our house?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Henry was doing some work after-hours and made a discovery. He dropped by to talk to me about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason didn’t seem convinced. “What ‘discovery?’” he asked, making air-quotes with his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Classified. But it was something that couldn’t wait until morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason sighed, turning toward the kitchen. “Whatever, Mom. Go do your spy stuff,” he said, opening a cabinet to take out a glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth went back to where Henry sat waiting, brows raised. “Well, thanks for stopping by,” she said politely, knowing Jason was still in earshot. “And thanks for bringing that to my attention. Can we continue at the office tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry nodded, taking his cue to leave. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see you in the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for letting us relocate,” said Elizabeth as Henry let her into his house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just don’t like the idea of my kids getting suspicious, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I get it.” His brow furrowed. “What about your security detail?” he asked, nodding toward the door. After taking a quick look through the house, they had agreed to stay outside the door. “Do you think they’re suspicious about our late-night investigating?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, they probably just think we’re having an affair,” she said with a shrug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry’s eyes widened in shock, and his mouth hung open for a moment. She tried to suppress a grin, but she didn’t try very hard. “Anyway, shall we?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cleared his throat. “Of course,” he said, leading her through the doorway behind him to a small living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A short while later, after Isabelle had arrived, she and Elizabeth were explaining what they’d learned from the fuel technician that day. “They used his daughter’s life to get what they wanted,” said Elizabeth, her voice hollow. “They sent him a link to a live feed of her on the playground with a red dot on her forehead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I went through his emails,” said Isabelle, “but the sender was untraceable. What’s our next move?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You use Matt,” said Henry, “right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth nodded. “I need to give him something to tell Russell and see how he reacts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe something about the conversation with Ambassador Dori,” Henry suggested. “His response might tell you if he’s just annoyed that you’re digging, or…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or afraid of what I might dig up,” Elizabeth finished. “That could work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It could also put you in danger, Bess,” said Isabelle. “If he was involved, and he finds out that you’re on to him, who’s to say he won’t try to make you disappear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry sat frozen and watched as Elizabeth considered that. “You’re not wrong,” she conceded. “But I don’t have any other options.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Nadine?” Henry came into her office on Monday, while Elizabeth was meeting with the Iraqis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nadine looked up from her desk. “What do you need?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was going over some of the material for the dinner next weekend” He laid a paper on her desk, and pointed to a mark he had made in pen. “There’s a section here that I think--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that moment, a member of Diplomatic Security opened the door. “Ma’am, we have an active shooter situation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry looked up. “What? Is the Secretary alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s being secured. For now we’re asking everyone to shelter in place.” With that, he left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry looked back at Nadine, defeated. “I guess we’re gonna be in here a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alison was on the couch in the living room, flipping through channels, when Jason came down the stairs. “Anything good?” he asked, his voice breaking into a yawn halfway through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t know yet,” said Alison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s mom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At work. She has that thing with Iraq, remember?” Alison reminded him as she idly flipped past a news channel.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“...and the State Department security seems to have--”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, go back,” said Jason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alison changed the channel and the anchorman continued. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“--under control. We don’t know at this time if this is a lone shooter or if he is working with a group.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“A shooter? What?” Alison stood up, panicking.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“For anyone just tuning in, we are getting reports that there is an armed shooter outside the State Department.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m calling Mom.” Jason pulled his phone out of his pocket and quickly found the contact for his mother. It rang several times before it went to the familiar sound of her personal number’s voicemail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, if you’re trying to reach Elizabeth, Bess, or Lizzie, please leave a message. If you’re looking for Secretary Adams, this is the wrong number. You should be calling--” Jason cut her off when he heard Alison’s phone ring. He looked at her expectantly as she picked it up off the couch, along with the remote, muting the TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Blake, her assistant,” she said. She answered it and put it on speaker. “Is Mom okay? We saw it on the news.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s happening?” asked Jason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s fine,” said Blake. Alison sighed and sat on the couch. Jason joined her. “The building is on lockdown,” Blake continued, “but the windows are bullet-proof, and her security is working to resolve the situation. I was just calling to let you know that we’re all okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we talk to her?” asked Jason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid not. She’s in another room with the Iraqi delegation, and we are all being required to shelter in place. I’m sure she’ll call you as soon as she can.” Jason and Alison stared at each other, not knowing what to say. “She really is okay,” said Blake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Thanks, Blake,” said Alison before hanging up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nadine and Henry tried to make themselves useful while they waited.Nadine was able to continue most of her regular office work, but all Henry had to work with was his phone, so he spent his time catching up on emails.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you think the Iraqis are holding up in there?” asked Henry after a few hours of working in relative silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Nadine said honestly. “I haven’t heard any missiles deploy yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry smiled. “Let’s hope the Secretary’s working her diplomatic magic on them, not to mention her CIA knowledge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s hope,” Nadine echoed. “Speaking of CIA knowledge, how’s it going on the Marsh investigation?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry raised an eyebrow. “The what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “She told me it was her next move after I was cleared, and I know you’ve been helping her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, then you know I’m not comfortable telling you anything,” Henry said simply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough. But I could probably help. I knew a lot about him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you did. You were his Chief of Staff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was more than that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought she might have told you. Secretary Marsh and I were...close.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry nodded slowly, realization dawning. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway, I could probably help you guys. There was very little about him that I didn’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you should communicate that to the Secretary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I will,” she replied. She went back to typing for a minute before she spoke up again. “You should be careful with her,” she said, keeping her eyes on her screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With the Secretary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t quite catch your meaning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nadine looked at him and worked her jaw, trying to choose her words carefully. “Just make sure you don’t get too close.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry leaned back against the back of the sofa, trying to shrug her off. “We’re not--it’s not like that. At all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve seen this movie before, Henry. I was in it. It starts with the closed office door, the pull-asides after senior staff, then it’s working late when everyone’s gone, then you’re in her house…” she saw Henry tense up and knew she was touching a nerve. “And it doesn’t end well,” she finished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry sighed. “Look, whatever you think--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ma’am?” The same DS agent poked his head in the door. “The shooter is secure. We’re lifting the lockdown.” He was gone as soon as he had come, and Nadine looked back at Henry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just be careful.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I gotta say, when I was re-watching this episode and the DS agent said "Shelter in place," it hit different in 2020. Just me?</p><p>It might be a little while before I post the next chapter. When I started posting this fic, I was already like 6 or 7 chapters into writing, but now I'm just a little over one chapter ahead of myself. I find that having multiple chapters written down the line makes my writing more cohesive and makes me more confident about posting it. I'm not talking about a long break, probably no more than a week.</p><p>Thanks so much for all the kind comments I've gotten so far! It makes me beyond happy how much I see you guys enjoying this fic.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Venezuela trip. Elizabeth feels guilty about leaving her kids at home, and confides in Henry.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And we're back! Thanks so much for all of the kind reviews in the meantime! They really keep me going.</p>
<p>Feel free to skip over this, but it's been a while, so here is a quick recap for those who need it.</p>
<p>Henry, single father of Stevie McCord, was working in the Office of Government Ethics and interviewed Elizabeth as part of the vetting process. Then Elizabeth, divorced mother of Alison and Jason Adams, hired him as a policy advisor. He and Isabelle have been helping her with the Vincent Marsh investigation, and E and H are getting kinda close. When we last saw our heroes, Nadine was seeing too many similarities to her relationship with Marsh, and warned Henry to be careful. We know Henry's wife's name, Amy, but that's about it. We know Elizabeth's husband's name, Mark, and that she quit the CIA around the time they got divorced and became a college professor.</p>
<p>Please enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Thank you for cooking, by the way,” said Elizabeth, sitting at Juliet’s kitchen counter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No problem,” said Juliet, “I realize it’s the only way to keep spy reunion going. You and Isabelle don’t want to be seen palling around D.C. hotspots, not while you’re investigating Marsh’s death.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not investigating anything,” said Isabelle with a warning glance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We just can’t cook,” Elizabeth agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliet nodded. “Got it. Alright, let’s eat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth sat down to join them at the table and was met with an unexpected squeak. “Ow.” She pulled the offending squeaky toy out from underneath her and held up the cute teddy. “Bear up the bum.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, I forgot to do the toy sweep,” said Juliet with a fond smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isabelle chuckled. “Too bad we couldn’t see the kids, are they with their dad tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliet’s smile disappeared. “They are. All week. Every week. I just lost custody.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wha--how? Why?” Elizabeth asked, incredulous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The judge decided that I have a demanding and high-risk occupation. They’re better off with their father, a banker. He literally has banker’s hours.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s ridiculous,” said Isabelle. “Are you going to fight it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to try. It’s just gonna drag on forever.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry,” said Elizabeth, shaking her head. Then she stopped. “Hey, you know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna put you in touch with the woman who handled my case.” She reached for her pocket and pulled out her phone. “I had a great lawyer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliet gave her a half-smile. “Well, I appreciate that, but we both know you didn’t win custody because of a lawyer. And if you expect me to quit my job--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Elizabeth tried not to be offended. “I would never suggest that. I didn’t quit my job to win a custody battle.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it certainly didn’t hurt…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I quit my job because it was coming between me and my family.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. But we can’t all choose family over country every time something--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, settle down,” Isabelle broke in. The table got quiet. “You two are in different situations. There’s no need to compare yourselves.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth sighed. “You’re right. Juliet, I’m sorry. Just because I did something doesn’t mean I would ever expect you to make the same choice. I was in a very different place with a…very different man.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry too,” said Juliet, staring into her wine glass. “You’ve never been judgmental of any of my choices. I guess I’ve just been feeling guilty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth and Isabelle scooted closer in tandem, wrapping themselves around her in friendly comfort. “You have no reason to feel guilty,” said Isabelle. “I know I speak for Bess too when I say if there’s ever anything we can do…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anything,” Elizabeth agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let us know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth and Isabelle left the house a few hours later and made their way to their cars in the fast-fading daylight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was rough,” Isabelle said softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I wonder how long she’s been holding that one in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isabelle threw her arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder as they walked. “You okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” She stopped when she got to her car. “No. Am I judgmental?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isabelle chuckled. “Sometimes. But not about that. I think Juliet’s projecting her own self-doubt onto you. She overreacted.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Okay, I’ll see you later,” she said, pulling her in for a hug. “Love you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Love you too.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth got a text from Henry on Sunday afternoon that he wouldn’t be able to meet that night, so she didn’t see him again until the Senior Staff meeting on Monday morning. “Good morning,” she told the group as she walked in. “Did everyone read my memo?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, ma’am,” said Nadine. “We reached out to Venezuela this morning with the official request to visit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And?” Elizabeth sat down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry shifted forward. “Unsurprisingly, President Suarez firmly turned us down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How firmly?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“According to the consular office,” said Blake, “his exact words were ‘your imperialist propaganda is not welcome here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s pretty firm,” Elizabeth admitted. “So how are we going to change his mind?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do we even want to change his mind?” asked Jay. “Suarez hates us and everything we stand for.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I appreciate the pep talk, Jay, but President Suarez is talking about canceling the upcoming election, and I’d like to try to talk him out of it. Somebody tell me how we’re gonna get our foot in the door.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We could pare back the language in your South American tour statement,” Matt suggested. “Make it less threatening.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry frowned. “If we do that, we’ve lost the battle before we even land in Caracas.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I agree,” said Elizabeth. “I want to be perfectly clear about our intentions.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So are we at crazy ideas?” asked Daisy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re always at crazy ideas,” said Elizabeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think the Secretary lives there,” Henry joked, catching her eye across the table. She smiled at him before turning her attention back to Daisy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you thinking, Daisy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We could try celebrity diplomacy.” She turned her tablet around to reveal the image of an attractive baseball player. “This is Manny Azuco.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, get Mr. Azuco on board and see what El Presidente thinks,” Elizabeth said as the meeting ended. “Great work. Henry, could you hang back for a minute?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, ma’am.” She stood up, and he followed her to the coffee machine while the other staff members filed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Missed you last night,” she said, pouring herself a cup.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, sorry about that. I was at the archives when I texted you. I could just tell it was gonna be a late night for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The archives?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, for the book I’m writing on St. Patrick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re writing a book?” she asked, smiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah. I’ve written books before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I know I just...I guess I thought you were out of academia,” she said, stirring cream and sugar into her coffee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll ever be completely out of academia. I’m too much of a nerd. But in this case the publishers approached me with the offer, and I took it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, how did last night go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right.” She moved toward the door to her office. “Well, last week Nadine gave me the number for a bank account Marsh had in Caracas. Isabelle looked into it for me. Turns out Nadine wasn’t completely honest about the account. She’s a signatory, under the name of Carlotta Taniston.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow. Have you asked her about it?” Henry asked, following her into the office.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth shook her head. “Not yet. But the only way she can access the account for us is in person, so…” she trailed off, but Henry understood what she was saying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So this is the real reason you added Venezuela to the trip.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Basically, yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s your plan?”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“Do I need to say no parties?” Elizabeth asked her kids. It was Thursday morning, and she was getting ready to leave for Venezuela, so she was going back over everything with the kids.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Apparently you do,” said Jason.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And no friends over, please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom,” said Alison, “We know all of this. You went over everything in the family meeting last night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, I know. It’s just, it’s my first diplomatic trip that I’m leaving you guys here, and I feel a little--” her phone buzzed. Security. “Hang on, the babysitter’s here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason scowled. “Can we please not call her that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Okay. But I’m not calling her a nanny, it makes me feel like some...negligent mother who doesn’t have time to raise her own kids, so she pays other people to do it for her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison rolled her eyes. “I think we can survive four days without you, Mom. And Alyssa’s cool, we met her when you and Blake were doing the interviews.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth made her way to the front door and opened it. Alyssa smiled up at her. “Good morning, Madam Secretary.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth stepped to the side to let her in. “Good morning. The kids are in the kitchen, I’ll show you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa nodded, her dark curls bouncing with the movement, and she followed her to the kitchen. “Hey, Alison,” she said with a wave, “Jason.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Elizabeth went down her mental list of preparations. “You should be all set, food-wise. If you want to order pizza or anything, I left some money with Alison. Of course, if you need anything, I’ve got a list…” she pulled it off the fridge where she had stuck it with a magnet. “A list of phone numbers for me, Blake, my Chief of Staff, the head of my detail, and of course--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mom</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Alison chided. “We are going to be fine. Right, Alyssa?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa smiled. “Right. Actually, Blake emailed me all the numbers I would need, but it’s good to have a hard copy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth sighed, dropping the piece of paper onto the counter. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa laughed. “You’re being a mom. But, I can assure you, I’ll have everything under control.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which means there’s no reason for you to feel guilty about going,” said Alison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth grimaced. “Not even a little bit?”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“You okay?” Henry asked Elizabeth as the rest of the staff filed out of her plane office. “You seemed a little distracted during the meeting. You thinking about Marsh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth shook her head. “No, actually. Thinking about my kids. This is the first time I’m leaving them for a trip.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re worried about them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not...worried, exactly,” she said, her mouth twisting as she bit her lip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You feel guilty?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gave a lopsided grin. “Maybe a little. They have a sitter, I just…” she trailed off, looking at her hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is the sitter good?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s the best. Blake and I interviewed a million candidates before I got confirmed, because I knew I would need one for trips like this, and we both put her at the top of the list. The kids like her. I just…” she shrugged. “I always feel guilty going on work trips. Ever since Baghdad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He remembered from the confirmation interviews that her husband had left her right after she came home. Realization dawned. “You blame yourself?” The words tumbled out of his mouth, and he immediately regretted it. “I’m so sorry,” he said quickly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She laughed mirthlessly. “You’re not wrong, though. Listen, will you send Nadine in here? I want to make sure she’s prepped for the bank.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure.” He stood up and made for the door, but paused with his hand on the knob. He turned back. “You know, I had to spend some time overseas when I was working with the NSA. The first time, I mean.” Elizabeth was watching him, fidgeting with the pen in her hands. “Stevie was 7 years old, and she stayed with my parents while I was gone. I was...a wreck. It was the longest I’d left her since her mom died. I did my best to explain to her why I had to leave, but I wasn’t sure if she really got it, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth nodded slowly, not sure where he was going with this. “A couple months after I got back,” he continued, “she had this...school project, she was supposed to make a poster on something heroic a member of her family had done.” His eyes gleamed with love for his daughter. “She drew a picture of me, getting on a plane, with her waiting on the ground. At the bottom, she wrote, ‘Daddy went to Syria so that I would be safe.’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth didn’t know if the next breath that came out was a sigh or a laugh, but she felt like her heart would burst.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I still have that poster,” he said. “It’s a reminder that she appreciates the time I spend working to make a better world for her, even if it means spending a little less time </span>
  <em>
    <span>with</span>
  </em>
  <span> her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth gave him a soft smile. “Thank you Henry,” she said. It came out in a whisper, but the intensity behind the words left a mark on him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded. “I’ll go get Nadine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He left her office and shut the door behind him, taking a shaky breath as he replayed the look on Elizabeth’s face in his mind. He went to find Nadine, remembering the words she had spoken to him the week before: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just make sure you don’t get too close.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was beginning to understand what she meant.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Henry ended up in the same car as Nadine and Elizabeth when they went back to their hotel at the end of the day. He watched Nadine wringing her hands in her lap--she wasn’t normally a fidgeter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” he asked. The next day, she was going to the bank to look at the records for Marsh’s account.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” she admitted. “I am not accustomed to doing this kind of thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll be fine, Nadine,” said Elizabeth. “I’ll give you the advice my first handler gave me. Get in, get out, say as little as possible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not what my first handler told me,” said Henry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nadine looked at him nervously. “What did yours say?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Lives are at stake. You don’t want to screw this up.’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that’s encouraging.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry shrugged. “It got the job done. Nobody at that bank expects you to be a liar, Nadine. All the eye scans and fingerprinting is regular procedure for them.. You’re gonna be fine.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“One week before Marsh’s death,” Nadine told them the next day in between events, “the account contained 40 million U.S. dollars.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Were there names of depositors in the records?” Henry asked her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shook her head. “Just numbers. But the account was emptied out the day after he died.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do the records show who withdrew the money?” Elizabeth asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a name I didn’t recognize. She signed in as the corporation’s recording secretary. Marie Porter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth and Henry shared a look--it was one of the fake names Isabelle had found when she was looking into the account. “Do you know who that is?” Nadine asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth shook her head. “No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But we know it’s a pseudonym,” said Henry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nadine nodded. “Like Carlotta Taniston. Well, you’ll need to find out who she is. And what the hell Vincent Marsh is doing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Nadine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry looked at Elizabeth. “What do we do now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak when Daisy came up behind them. “Madam Secretary, it’s time for the press conference.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The press conference did not go as planned. After Manny Azuco unexpectedly came out to the world, El Presidente stormed out, summoning Elizabeth and Nadine to his office. When they came out, they didn’t look happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well?” Henry prompted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sighed. “At least El Presidente was very clear. We’ve got to figure out a way to be just as clear. Jay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ma’am?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No more incentives. We’ve got to beat him at his own game. What do we have on currency conversion?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Currency conversion?” Matt repeated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s risky,” said Jay, understanding her thought process. “But it’s a good idea. I’ll talk to Treasury.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. Let’s go. Henry?” The group began to head toward where they were supposed to meet her motorcade, and Henry came up behind Elizabeth, along with Nadine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?” he whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They caught Nadine at the bank,” she murmured back. “They knew there was something wrong about the account, and they were watching it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry’s eyes widened. “So what do we do now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I can convince him that we were investigating him and turn the tables. It depends on what Jay digs up.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth’s plan worked. Four hours later, they were on a plane to Bogotá, Colombia, the next stop on her goodwill tour. “Not only did I smooth things over with President Suarez,” she told Henry, “but I talked to Colonel Fuentes. He’s going to send me all the information he has on the other signatories of Marsh’s account.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s great,” said Henry. “We’re one step closer to finding the truth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Her phone vibrated and Henry watched as she picked it up off her desk. The light from the screen lit up her face, but not as much as did the expression of love and joy. She put the phone down and looked back up at him. “That was Alison,” she explained. “She said, ‘I heard about Venezuela. Good job saving the world.’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See? Just like I told you. You’re making the world better for your daughter. It doesn’t go unnoticed.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yousif dies, and Elizabeth needs a friend to lean on, but Isabelle isn't happy with her right now. Someone has to step in.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here's a ridiculously long chapter for y'all. I don't know what got into me, but I hope you like it!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Henry walked into the break room and found Elizabeth standing at the counter, sipping from her mug. “Hey, I heard you had a pretty long meeting with Munsey and Russell Jackson this morning,” he said as he refreshed his mug of coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth nodded, reaching for a cruller. “I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would it happen to have anything to do with a certain former Secretary of State?” His question was half-joking, but Elizabeth looked serious. She sighed and leaned against the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been meaning to bring that up. I took your suggestion about feeding that information to Russell. And he showed up in my office the night we got back from Venezuela. Showed me all his cards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry nodded. “So what does that mean for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It means he’s clean. He could have tried to throw me off the scent, but he confronted me honestly. I explained everything. He’s opened up an official investigation. It’s gonna be need-to-know from now on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry gave her a lopsided smile. “And I don’t need to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Isabelle knows...some things. But Munsey made it very clear that we’re keeping it to whoever’s needed to get it done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understood. Just let me know if there’s anything I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> need to know, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth breathed a small sigh of relief that he understood. “Absolutely. And thank you, Henry. You really were a huge help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome, Madam Secretary.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>That night after work, Elizabeth showed up at Isabelle’s house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Bess,” said Isabelle, pleasantly surprised as she opened the door. “Come on in, what’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth smiled tightly and stepped past her into the front room. “I need to talk to you about something. It’s not going to be fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isabelle knit her brow. “Okay,” she said slowly, walking into her den and sitting on the couch. “Go ahead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was an op in Turkey today to take in Samila Mahdavi--that’s the woman who took the money out of Marsh’s account. It didn’t go well. Samila was killed in the crossfire.” Elizabeth noted what looked like genuine surprise on Isabelle’s face; that was a good sign.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who could have known about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s why I’m here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isabelle frowned in confusion, and then realization washed over her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait. You think I had something to do with it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth’s mouth twisted up in remorse as she spoke. “Look at it from my perspective. No one else knew about the op except for Russell and Munsey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two government officials and your best friend. Who do you trust?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth sighed. “Look, did you talk to anybody? Juliet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not. She was very clear, she wanted no part in this. I mean, are we sure we can trust Munsey?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s got too much skin in the game to ruin the op like that. Why not just box us out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” Isabelle shook her head and stared into space, thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then of course there’s Occam’s Razor,” said Elizabeth, looking out the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isabelle followed her gaze and saw the black SUVs headed for her house. Slowly she put together what was about to happen. She looked at Elizabeth, hurt. “I can’t say I blame you. But I can’t say I’ll forgive you, either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” said Elizabeth, her face pulled into a pained expression. “I just have to be sure.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>They were a few minutes into the next day’s morning meeting when Henry came in. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” he said, setting his coffee on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were just discussing the situation in Bahrain,” said Elizabeth. “Are you filled in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “I read Nadine’s memo on the way up. Does Bahrain have a response?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re sending the Crown Prince,” said Jay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prince Yousif? That can’t be good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t be so sure,” said Elizabeth. “I think I can negotiate with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nadine raised her brows. “Well, the prince may be Bahrain’s great liberal hope, but I doubt he’s coming to negotiate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I can take him,” she said with a smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Madam Secretary,” said Henry, “the royal family of Bahrain is not easily worn down. We’re looking at a man who owns more than a hundred homes, I think he may be used to getting his way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that may be, but I happen to know he’s extremely ticklish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry gaped, along with the rest of the staff. “Sorry, what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You heard me. Nadine, what’s next?”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Ma’am,” Blake said, walking through her open door and stepping to the side. “Crown Prince Obaid,” he announced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prince Yousif followed, looking stern. “Madam Secretary. You detained a consular officer, and the Kingdom of Bahrain cannot abide such an action.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth maintained a straight face for about three seconds before she broke. “Oh my god, you sound </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> official, Joey.” She stood up and rounded her desk ignoring Blake’s shocked expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, Lizzie, it is Yousif-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come here.” She stood on her toes to wrap her arms around his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finally dropped his stern demeanor and laughed, warmly returning her embrace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We went to boarding school together,” she explained to Blake. “Houghton Hall. We were co-captains of the debate team.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” said Joey, “although I think our most heated debates were on the roof of Sukaly dorm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Oh, we had big plans to change the world didn’t we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake’s shocked look melted into a pleased smile. “Okay, I will let you two catch up,” he said, leaving them to talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t seen you since…” she trailed off, not remembering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since your wedding, I believe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gosh, has it really been that long?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “We had one last childish debate on your last night of singleness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed. “Well, I’m single again. Surprise,” she added, waving her fingers in mock jazz hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And, I understand, the mother of two beautiful children?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. My baby girl is 15 now, can you believe it?” She sat down on the couch. “How are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, honestly, Lizzie, I’m in a bit of a tight spot. I need you to release the Hassanis and reinstate full immunity immediately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I can’t reinstate what they were never qualified for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re Bahraini diplomats. They cannot be treated like common criminals.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re in the United States,” she said firmly. “The Hassanis broke over half a dozen laws, and they’re going to pay for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. Without immunity, your soldiers, your embassy employees </span>
  <em>
    <span>may</span>
  </em>
  <span> get dragged before Bahraini judges just for annoying our government.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Now, I know that’s not a real threat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am just saying, I cannot guarantee there won’t be consequences.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s talking here, Joey? You or your father? Come on, you used to rail against his conservative rule.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I still maintain my own views.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then stand up to him,” she said, emphasizing her point by standing up herself. “Make him accept our immunity waiver.” She got close to him, forcing him to look her in the eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held her gaze for a moment. “Fine. I will talk to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she said honestly. “I know that’s not easy. How is your father?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s old. He’s sick. He’s nearing the end of his life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope it’s not true, but if it is, I take solace in the fact that a progressive, bold new leader will take his place.” She dropped her Secretary of State demeanor entirely, looking excited. “Hey, why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joey looked unsure, so she rushed to convince him. “Come on,” she said, putting an arm around his shoulder as they walked out of the office. “We won’t talk shop, I’ll make pot roast,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raised an eyebrow. “I seem to remember you being a rather terrible cook,” he said as they passed Blake’s desk. Henry and Jay were standing nearby, talking, but they quieted and looked up as they passed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth shrugged. “I’m not great, but I had to learn a few things when I became a single mother. It’ll be fun, I promise.” Henry and Jay exchanged a confused glance, which Elizabeth saw. “Joey and I go way back,” she explained. “We went to boarding school together. You’ll love Alison and Jason,” she continued as the pair made their way to the elevator. “I can’t wait for you to meet them.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>When Alison walked into the kitchen after school, she was surprised to find her mom standing at the counter, chopping carrots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Mom,” she said. Heading for the fridge, she stopped as she passed her to give her a brief hug from behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, baby,” she said, twisting slightly to return her hug. “Where’s Jason?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He went upstairs. You’re home early,” she said, staring into the fridge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we’ve got company for dinner, so I’m making pot roast. Have I ever told you about my friend Yousif?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alison thought for a minute. “Yeah, he’s the Prince of Bahrain, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Well, he’s in town on some...state business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah, I read an article about that couple you arrested,” Alison replied, reaching for a carton of strawberries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha- I didn’t arrest them personally. Anyway, I invited him over. Not as a foreign diplomat,” she was quick to clarify. “As a friend. I haven’t seen him since before you were born. I want him to meet you guys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alison made a face that Elizabeth couldn’t quite decipher as she ate her snack. “That sounds fine,” she said, but her voice betrayed hesitancy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth finished chopping the carrots and pushed them aside with her knife, reaching for an onion next. “Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s just...doesn’t his country condone slave-owning? And you’re friends with him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth sighed. “It’s true that slavery is still legal in Bahrain. And while the Royal Family is known to own slaves, Joey is against the practice. He has limited control over his family until he becomes King. My hope is that he’ll be able to make changes when that happens. In the meantime…” she paused, seeming to take her emotions out on the onion she was chopping. “I’m just hoping he’ll use the power he </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>have.” She looked up at Alison. “Does that make sense?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that makes sense. Do you want any help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. You can cut those potatoes,” she said, gesturing to the bag on the counter. Alison grabbed the bag and got to work.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Madam Secretary, you have to see this,” Jay called to her just as she was leaving a meeting. “They’re live on Prince Yousif announcing he’s prosecuting the Hassanis in Bahrain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Elizabeth followed him excitedly into the room where he and Daisy were watching the Prince’s speech.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, to those countrymen who will reframe this course-correction as dissent, I say, some dissent is good, especially when standing up for the right reasons.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth smiled and moved toward the door. “I’m guessing your dinner had something to do with this?” Jay offered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who knew my pot roast was that effective?” she replied, leaving the room. She walked down the hallway with a spring in her step, until she heard--were those gunshots?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Madam Secretary!” Jay called out. She rushed back into the room just in time to see her oldest friend carried away as the passion and veracity faded from his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” she whispered. “No, no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daisy was quick to turn the TV off. “Madam Secretary, I am so sorry,” she said gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth stared at the black screen until her vision blurred. She snapped back into focus and turned to Jay. “Reach out to the Bahraini embassy and offer our sympathies. Daisy, get ready to make a statement of support, or of condolence, if...” she trailed off. “I’ll be in my office,” she said, rushing out of the room.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>It didn’t take long for them to get the official news: Prince Yousif was dead before he reached a hospital. Elizabeth sat against a desk in Conference Room East for a long time, just staring out the window, while she waited on her staff to update her on the situation. A part of her wanted comfort, but another part just wanted to focus on work. Besides, who could she talk to? Isabelle had barely spoken to her since she’d accused her of being the leak and had her polygraphed.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Add her to the list of friends whose lives I’ve ruined,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Elizabeth thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake arrived first and stood just inside the doorway. Nadine came next, with Henry and Jay close behind. “Madam Secretary,” she said, “the funeral has been scheduled for tomorrow at 4pm local time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll need to leave Andrews by midnight tonight,” said Blake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth nodded, tightly gripping the desk under her. “Any news? Have they identified the gunman?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was a member of Al-Jinna,” said Jay, “a radical opposition party. Apparently, the text of the speech was leaked a few hours before the press conference.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ma’am,” said Daisy, walking briskly into the room, “your request to participate in the funeral has been denied. You’ll have to stay in the back of the mosque with the women, behind an opaque curtain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How does that work?” asked Jay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only men are allowed to participate in the funeral procession,” said Henry with a sigh. “It’s not an uncommon rule.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ma’am,” Nadine cut in, “the image of the American Secretary of State cloistered behind a curtain because she’s a woman…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d be allowing the Bahrainis to undermine your authority as a representative of the United States, and as a woman,” Daisy argued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Elizabeth said weakly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boycott the funeral?” asked Blake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d advise against that,” Daisy countered. “There could be backlash if we turn down the invitation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry nodded. “It could be seen as a critique of a whole culture, not just the event,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just said going would undermine her position,” said Jay, “now staying home is a critique? What do you advocate?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know yet,” said Daisy. “This is complicated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s also our naval base to consider,” said Nadine. “According to DoD, the Bahrainis are already holding up supply shipments to Manama.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re doing a full about-face,” said Jay. “Whatever gains we thought we’d made are through.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But ma’am,” said Daisy, “would you really miss Prince Obaid’s funeral?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth sighed, stood, and walked toward the door. “Religion guy,” she said, pointing at Henry and crooking her finger, “with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry obliged, following her into her office. She flopped down on the sofa and looked up at him. “Okay, Professor, what do I do? How do I toe the line between criticizing an entire faith, and devaluing an entire gender?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry sighed and sat down next to her. “Well, I would argue first that it’s not an entire religion, it’s a particular sect of Islam, on the more conservative side of a wide--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay, I get that. But you know what my point is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. You don’t want to offend anyone abroad or at home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” she said, running a hand through her hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands. “I think the best course of action would be to…” he stopped and watched how her hands were wringing in her lap, how she worried her lip between her teeth, the stress and pain in her eyes. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t do this, I can’t tell you what to do here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked back over at him. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Madam Secretary, the Prince was a friend of yours. I can’t pretend that this is an objective matter of state.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But isn’t that my job?” She asked, eyes pleading. “I mean, how can I choose to honor my friend over honoring the needs of my office?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry held her gaze, searching his mind for a nugget of wisdom. He said the best he could come up with. “‘Say your prayers standing, but if you are unable, sitting, and if unable, on your sides.” He saw her look of confusion. “It means that you can honor Yousif even if you decide not to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Says who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, the Prophet Mohammed. Here is my honest advice,” he said. “Go home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You lost a friend today. Go home, eat some ice cream. Make Isabelle come over and give you a hug. Take a break.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t just...drop everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you can. The Secretary of State is still allowed to have feelings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth could feel her eyes getting heavy with tears. She broke eye contact and looked down at the coffee table. “Well, it doesn’t matter, because Isabelle probably wouldn’t come over if I asked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...accused her of treason” she said, not looking up to see what she was sure was a confused expression. “I don’t think she wants to comfort me right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He softened. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that. But the other part holds true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head. “The Bahrainis are already holding up body armor shipments for thousands of American soldiers, I mean, who knows how far they’ll go if they think that I’m humiliating them?” Her voice got breathy, which Henry had learned only happened when she was lying or very upset.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you give yourself a pass?” he asked, getting insistent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dam broke, and out came the thoughts that plagued her all day. “I’m the one who convinced Joey to come out against the Hassanis. I knew his enemies were sharpening their knives. Do I get a pass on that too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Prince Yousif was murdered by a madman.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, they need provocation too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You pushed him to do what was right. I’m sure that was why he loved you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, and if I hadn’t then he might still be alive,” she said, voice breaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Friendship that insists upon agreement on all things isn’t worth the name.’ That’s Gandhi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, that one I get. Thank you,” she said, looking up at him. “But Gandhi doesn’t have to pick between his country and his friend within the next 6 hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched her lips twist to the side as she tried to keep the tears at bay. He couldn’t help himself. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t expecting it, and her whole body tensed up for a moment. Then, gradually, she relaxed, daring to rest her head on his shoulder. He rubbed a hand down her back and she took a deep breath, finally allowing herself to cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tried not to think too hard about how nice it felt, being in his arms.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Elizabeth walked into the house about an hour later and wearily shut the door behind her. Alison had left her room as soon as she heard the motorcade pull up, and greeted her at the bottom of the staircase with a warm hug. “I’m sorry about Yousif,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” said Elizabeth with a sad smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe it; he was just here last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason followed down the steps and came around Alison to make it a group hug. ‘He was cool,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth smiled softly. “He was cool.” She broke the embrace, pulling back to look at them. “I had Blake go ahead and call Alyssa. She’s gonna spend the night here so I can fly to Bahrain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alison looked mildly surprised. “The funeral is that soon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Well, yes. But I’m not going to the funeral. I’m just going to pay my respects to the King. Women aren’t allowed to participate in funerals in Bahrain. I’d have to stand behind a curtain, which I’d be willing to do, but I have to represent the United States, and…” she sighed. “Anyway, this was something we could all live with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m sorry you can’t go. But that sounds like a smart compromise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. It is. I didn’t think of it by myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth smiled. “I got some good advice from a friend.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Takes place during S1E14, Whisper of the Ax, when Elizabeth was fighting for the microloan program. My take on how that would go down in this universe.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Y'all, with this chapter, this fic will surpass 30k words! Also, when I started this fic I thought it would be 15-20 chapters, tops...now I've reached 15 chapters with no end in sight, and these dorks haven't even kissed. I wasn't expecting it to be this long but I'm really enjoying it and I'm glad you guys are too!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“First order of business,” said Nadine, cutting through the morning chit-chat. “Tomorrow, the Secretary will go before the House Appropriations Committee to defend her yearly budget. The hearing will be nationally televised, and Chairman Everard Burke will be looking for a chance to take a swing at her. We need to be at the top of our game.”</p><p>Elizabeth smiled at her Chief of Staff. “Nadine, I’d like to thank you for that encouraging start,” she said, met with scattered chuckles.</p><p>“Unfortunately,” said Jay, “she’s right. The Chairman is gunning for the microloan program. Burke hates anything that smacks of a government giveaway, and these loans are an easy target.”</p><p>“Even if we get that money back?” said Henry.</p><p>“Yeah,” said Matt, “what part of the word ‘loan’ does he not understand?”</p><p>“Loans equal liability. It doesn’t help that you’re increasing its budget next year.”</p><p>Blake brought the Secretary a coffee, which she readily accepted and put it on the table next to her ginormous briefing book. “Are you saying Chairman Burke doesn’t like me?” she asked.</p><p>“Chairman Burke hates you.”</p><p>“Well, don’t sugarcoat it.”</p><p>“Your approval ratings are higher than the President’s,” said Daisy. “Everybody hates a winner.”</p><p>“As your policy advisor, I’m advising you to cut the program,” Jay continued. “<em> Strongly </em> advising.”</p><p>“I disagree,” said Henry. “The microloans program is doing wonders for women around the world. I think it’s worth not backing down to a congressman with a chip on his shoulder.”</p><p>“Prosperity reduces conflict,” Matt agreed. “Which I think I’m safe in saying is the whole point of diplomacy.”</p><p>“All Burke cares about is the number on the page,” said Jay. “You’re not gonna sway him with a ‘kumbaya’ moment. Cut the program. The rest of the budget will fly through.”</p><p>“Jay has a point,” said Nadine. “Is it worth it to risk the whole budget for a single program?”</p><p>“Yes,” said Matt, Daisy, and Henry in chorus. “This one is worth fighting for,” said Henry. “And we can win it.”</p><p>“Give me an argument,” said Elizabeth. </p><p>Daisy smiled. “Allow me. Nhung Chuang,” she said, turning her tablet around to show them a picture of the woman. “With a $200 loan, she organized her entire village into an agricultural co-op. Three years ago, they were surviving off of government subsidies. Now, they’re self-sufficient, and for the first time, sending their kids to school. And there are a thousand other stories just like hers. Why don’t you bring her to the hearing as your guest?”</p><p>“Oh, come on,” Jay groaned.</p><p>“Her testimony could be very powerful,” Daisy continued, unfazed. </p><p>“Does she even have command of the language?”</p><p>“I doubt it.” </p><p>“Is she suddenly gonna turn into Williams Jenning Bryan in front of the--”</p><p>“Jay,” Elizabeth snapped. “Your passion has crossed over into defeatism, and it’s annoying.</p><p>Jay looked sufficiently ashamed. “I apologize, ma’am.”</p><p>“I, for one, am with Daisy,” said Henry. “I think the chairman takes one look at the <em> actual </em> face of the microloans program, and he can’t rip into it on national TV.”</p><p>“That’s what I’m counting on,” Elizabeth agreed. “I want her as my guest. Put her on a plane, get her a translator, prep her as best as you can. We may lose this one, but we will go down swinging.”</p><hr/><p>The next night, the Adams got about 5 minutes into dinner before Jason finally addressed the elephant in the room. “So, I heard the hearing didn’t go well today.”</p><p>“Jason,” Ali hissed.</p><p>“It’s okay Ali. You’re right, Jason, it did not go well. I was totally...” she searched for a word.</p><p>“Accosted,” said Ali.</p><p>“Bushwhacked?” Jason offered.</p><p>“I was gonna say ambushed. But thanks. Would you pass the rolls?” </p><p>Jason nodded and handed her the plate. “So what happens now?”</p><p>“Are you gonna fight Chairman Burke?”</p><p>“Yeah, Alison,” said Jason, “she’s just gonna show up in her boxing gear.”</p><p>“That’s not what I meant.”</p><p>Elizabeth smiled. “I’m gonna try,” she said, breaking her roll in half so she could slather it with butter. “But I may not be able to. I fired Miles Pendergraff today, but the fact that he was embezzling funds from the microloans program makes things look pretty bad.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Mom,” said Alison. “If I were a house appro…” she trailed off.</p><p>“Appropriations.”</p><p>“Right. If I were a house appropriations committee, I would totally give you all my money.”</p><p>“Well, I appreciate that. If only you were in congress.”</p><p>“I’ll start my campaign tomorrow,” Ali joked. </p><p>“Oh, no,” said Jason, “am I going to be the only one in this family who doesn’t fall prey to the political machine?”</p><p>Elizabeth could barely hold in her laugh, almost spewing wine down her shirt.</p><p>“Hey, speaking of, you know, appropriating money, this cool new VR headset just came…” Elizabeth didn’t try to hold in her laugh this time. “It just came out, and I was wondering if I could have a <em> microloan </em> to cover the cost--”</p><p>Elizabeth was already shaking her head. “Sorry, bud. That one’s gonna have to come out of your own budget.”</p><p>“Well, my budget is grossly underfunded.”</p><p>“Sounds like you need to make some cuts to control the deficit.”</p><hr/><p>“Okay, can someone explain this to me?” Henry asked his coworkers. “Why does Mike Barnow’s arrival have us in a bar on a Tuesday night?”</p><p>“We always go for drinks when we’re about to get fired,” said Matt. </p><p>“He’s a couch-sitter,” said Nadine, swirling scotch around in her glass. “He’s a guy who moves into a cabinet member’s office and dispenses cool, calculated advice.”</p><p>“And by cool calculated advice, you mean...” Henry asked.</p><p>“Firing people,” Jay clarified.</p><p>Henry nodded. “Okay. Bottoms up,” he said, lifting his glass and downing it in one go.</p><p>‘It was nice working with y’all,” said Jay, a rare instance of his southern accent slipping out. “I’m sure I’m the fall guy.”</p><p>“No way,” said Daisy. “You’re the one who told her to cut microloans, I was fighting for it tooth and nail.”</p><p>“So was I,” Henry argued. “And I was so...Pollyanna about the whole thing, I never expected the Chairman to fight that hard against it. She should fire me.”</p><p>“Please,” Daisy scoffed. “We all know the Secretary’s not gonna fire you.”</p><p>Henry frowned. “Why’s that?”</p><p>“Daisy’s right,” said Matt. “You’re her favorite.”</p><p>“That is not true,” Henry said, getting defensive fast.</p><p>Jay waved his glass around, definitely the tipsiest of the group. “You’re like, the Secretary-whisperer. And you’re her hire. She won’t fire you.”</p><p>“No need to argue about it,” said Nadine, diffusing the situation. “The smart thing to do is fire us all.”</p><p>Based on the reality check the Secretary gave them in her office the next day, Nadine was right.</p><hr/><p>“Mike is suggesting that I fire some, or all of you, and I’m considering his suggestions. For now, I’m putting you all on notice.” She paused for one heavy moment, as they took in what she was saying. “That was a big mess.”</p><p>“That was a sackful of mangled kittens in the hot sun two weeks old,” said Mike from his place on his sofa. Nadine wasn’t wrong when she called him a couch-sitter. “That’s what that was.”</p><p>“Moving ahead,” the Secretary continued, “I’m looking for nothing short of perfection. That’s the bar. Are we clear?”</p><p>“Yes, ma’am,” was the collective response.</p><p>“Great, that’s all.” They all made their way to the door. “Henry,” Elizabeth called, stopping him in his tracks. “Would you stay behind?”</p><p>Henry turned slowly around and faced her. “Yes, ma’am?”</p><p>She waited for the door to close fully on the rest of her staff. “Mike and I have a plan to beat Everard Burke at the next hearing,” she said. “I want you to be a part of it.”</p><p>Henry nodded. “I’m in. What do you need from me?”</p><p>“Well first things first, you’re fired,” said Mike.</p><p>Elizabeth rolled her eyes at Mike’s theatrics. “Temporarily. It’s part of the plan.”</p><hr/><p>When Henry walked out of her office, he played the full part, keeping his head down until he saw some guys from security entering the bullpen.”You’re here for me, right Alex?”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s protocol, Dr. McCord.’</p><p>Once he’d handed over his State Department badge, he left--trying to imagine what it would be like to leave it for the last time. By the time he got to his car, he had a text from Elizabeth.</p><p>
  <b>Kyle turned down the job. Going to plan B.</b>
</p><p>Henry smiled as he typed out a reply. <b>Got it.</b> He got in his car and headed for the same bar they’d been at last night when Burke’s staffer had bought them a round of shots. He was hoping to run into Kyle a second time.</p><p>Henry had certainly done his due diligence in the drinking department by the time Kyle showed up to gloat. “I’ll get this one, Barry,” he said, as the bartender filled Henry’s glass once again.</p><p>Henry chuckled. “Thanks, but I don’t really want your hospitality.”</p><p>“What are you mad at me for? I could’ve had your job. I turned it down.”</p><p>“Doesn’t give it back to me.”</p><p>“You should have made her cut the microloans program. Burke was looking for a way to hurt your boss. She handed it to him.”</p><p>Henry sighed, picking up his glass. “Yeah she did.”</p><p>“It was only a matter of time though, right?”</p><p>Henry would have loved to punch that smug look off of Kyle’s face. Nevertheless, he persisted. “You have no idea. And that witness she brought in?” He groaned.</p><p>“Yeah, like Burke was gonna let that happen.”</p><p>“He <em> should </em>have. She sucked. She can’t even speak the language,” he lied. “I have no clue what we were doing there.”</p><p>“Is that right?” Kyle asked, and Henry knew he had him right where he wanted him.</p><p>“That’s right.”</p><hr/><p>After the next day’s hearing, Elizabeth’s arrival back at the State Department was met with thunderous applause the minute she stepped into the conference room where her Senior Staff had gathered.</p><p>“Madam Secretary,” said Nadine, “congratulations on a job well done.”</p><p>She grinned, welcoming the opportunity to gloat. “I think Burke knows who he’s dealing with now. And... look who I found on my way in!”</p><p>Behind her, Henry stepped into the room, which erupted again with cheers. “Welcome back, man,” said Matt, giving him a hug.</p><p>“I knew she wouldn’t fire you,” Daisy said.</p><p>“Sorry for the tradecraft,” Elizabeth said, “but it was the quickest way to get this done.”</p><p>“And to send a message to Burke,” Henry added. “You won’t be taken down so easily.”</p><p>“You really sold it, Henry. I mean, if you ever decide to go back into intelligence, Langley could use a guy like you.”</p><p>“I don’t think most marks would be as easy as Kyle.”</p><p>“Oh, I think you’d be surprised,” she said. “But we can always use you in the fight against bureaucracy.”</p><p>“Well, I’m definitely happy to be a part of that fight.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Elizabeth deals with fallout from the botched raid in Turkey, and continues to learn more about Marsh's death.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know, two chapters in 2 days! Enjoy it while it lasts, lol. I was able to get a lot of writing done this weekend by procrastinating my other responsibilities :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Mr. President," said Russell, "we've got an issue that we're ready to read you in on."</p><p>Conrad looked at the trio that had just entered his office, eyes darting from Russell to Munsey and landing on Elizabeth. "What is it?" he asked.</p><p>"It has to do with the death of Vincent Marsh, sir. We have proof that it wasn't an accident."</p><p>The President leaned back in his chair. "Tell me everything."</p><hr/><p>"Unfortunately, the op didn't go well," Munsey was explaining. "Our men were fired on by two snipers from the top of a building. We lost an operative, and Samila Mahdavi was killed in the crossfire."</p><p>"They were ready for us, Mr. President," said Elizabeth. "Someone knew we were coming."</p><p>"We believe there is a mole in our own security establishment," said Munsey. "That's why it's risen to your level."</p><p>Conrad frowned. "Why am I just learning about this?"</p><p>"We wanted to preserve plausible deniability for you," said Russell.</p><p>"You shouldn't have waited so long."</p><p>"It was a judgment call, Mr. President."</p><p>"A bad one, as it turns out."</p><p>Russell sighed, relenting, and the President continued. "I've got news for you all. I had questions about the Dubai crash at the time. I assigned a pair to investigate. They reported to me that it was an accident, which implies that they were hiding the truth. One of those agents is dead now," he said, looking Elizabeth in the eye. "George Peters."</p><p>Elizabeth looked at him in shock. "Who's the other agent?"</p><p>"Juliet Humphrey."</p><p>Elizabeth sank onto the sofa. "No."</p><p>"It's her," said Russell.</p><p>"No," she said again, putting a hand over her mouth.</p><p>"She's the mole."</p><p>"It makes sense," Munsey admitted. "You and Isabelle are close to her, right?"</p><p>"Extremely. We had dinner right before...right before the op."</p><p>"She must have planted the bug then," said Russell.</p><p>And all while fussing about choosing her country first, Elizabeth thought.</p><p>"I want a raid on her house," said the President. "Tonight."</p><p>"Of course," said Munsey. "I'll put it in motion immediately."</p><hr/><p>Elizabeth sat on her couch with the note Juliet had left for her, rereading it for the thousandth time. When Elizabeth had followed the FBI team into her house, it had been entirely cleared out, save for the teddy bear she'd sat on days before, and a note, addressed to Bess.</p><p>"<em>Whatever happens, know this: I did it for my country. This is a righteous cause."</em></p><p>This is a righteous cause. I did it for my country. A righteous cause. I did it for my-</p><p>Elizabeth was ripped out of her thoughts by her phone chiming on the coffee table. It was security, telling her Isabelle was there and asking if they should send her in. She sent back a quick yes and headed for the door.</p><p>"Thanks, Frank," she said as a member of her detail let Isabelle in. "Hey." Isabelle looked at her, not responding. "Should I even ask how you've been?" They hadn't seen each other since Elizabeth had accused her of being the mole, and she wasn't sure what to expect.</p><p>"Oh, I've been great," Isabelle said, clearly sarcastic. "I've been staying at a lovely little place called the Potomac Lodge, you know, given that my own bed was sliced open with a razor blade."</p><p>"I'm really sorry."</p><p>"I would ask how you could have accused me of being the mole," she said, the words themselves dripping with accusation but then she softed. "But how could either of us have suspected Juliet?"</p><p>"Right? I know, I-I can't-"</p><p>"You said on the phone that she left a note?"</p><p>Elizabeth nodded. "Yeah, it's in here," she said, leading her into the living room. "Not that it's a lot of help." She picked it up from where she'd left it on the coffee table and held it out.</p><p>Isabelle took it, letting out a deep sigh when she read what it said. "I guess we can rule out coercion," she said, sitting down on the couch next to Elizabeth.</p><p>"Or financial motivation. It's like it's some kind of misguided patriotism."</p><p>Isabelle set the note down, looking through the other files in the folder on the table. "Do we think she was acting alone?"</p><p>"I don't know. It seems like a prelude to something bigger. And she said this <em>is</em> a righteous cause."</p><p>Isabelle nodded. "As opposed to <em>was</em>."</p><p>"Like maybe it's not over."</p><p>Isabelle flicked through the folder, pulling out a file on Samila. "How's it going with Turkey?" she asked.</p><p>"It's a nightmare. They've got footage of the raid, of the shooting match between our guys and the ones who ambushed us. And they're refusing to give Brett Boris's body back. It doesn't help that the press are starting to ask questions about his death. My next step is to convince the President to let me fly down to Turkey and straighten this out."</p><p>Isabelle looked thoughtful. "I might do the same. I've got a contact at the Turkish National Police who I might happen to run into."</p><p>Elizabeth nodded. "Well, maybe I'll see you down there."</p><hr/><p>Not 24 hours later, Elizabeth was on the ground in Turkey. After getting approval from the President, she'd asked Blake to quietly clear her schedule and gotten Alyssa to stay with the kids. Now she was in a car on her way from the American embassy in Ankara to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, with one stop on the way. The car slowed to a stop in a crowded alley way and it took her a little while before she saw a familiar figure emerge. She opened the door and Isabelle scooted in, removing the headscarf she was wearing over her face.</p><p>"Welcome to Turkey."</p><p>"Just like old times, huh?"</p><p>"Yeah, beats lying around at home in my sliced-open bed," Isabelle said with a wry smile, digging in her bag.</p><p>"Gotta admire how thorough they are though," said Elizabeth, an attempt at humor. It fell flat. "Too soon?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"What do you got for me?"</p><p>Isabelle found what she was looking for, pulling out a folder and opening it to reveal pictures of Samila on the ground after she was killed. "This backpack," she said, pointing to the striped bag hanging off the woman's shoulders. "My contact at the Turkish National Police says they recovered a laptop in it."</p><p>"Do they know what's on it?"</p><p>"No. It's encrypted."</p><p>"Well, with Samila out of the picture, that may be our only hope for a lead in the Marsh investigation."</p><hr/><p>When Elizabeth walked back into the State Department on Thursday morning, it was with an air of triumph. After Minister Javani had given her the contents of the laptop, she'd given them to Isabelle to de-encrypt. She didn't know who else in the Intelligence Community she could trust, but she knew Isabelle would get the job done, and discreetly. On top of that victory, she had successfully smoothed things over with the Turks, and Brett's body was coming home.</p><p>She strode into the conference room and was met with "welcome back"s from her staff, who were already gathered at her request. "Okay, you guys, here is our official story," she said. All eyes were on her as she continued. "My undisclosed trip was to Turkey. I was there to clear up a misunderstanding with the Turkish government. They are dropping the CIA story, and Brett Boris' body is coming home."</p><p>"What did we give them?" asked Matt.</p><p>"Nothing," said the Secretary.</p><p>"Got it," he said, but Daisy didn't seem satisfied. "Ma'am, with all due respect, I don't think I can spin that story."</p><p>"Oh, of course you can," said Elizabeth, unconcerned.</p><p>"Let me rephrase. I don't know if I'm willing to."</p><p>Elizabeth looked hard at her. "Then I think we have a problem."</p><p>Daisy held her gaze for a moment. "Yeah." She picked up her tablet from where it lay on the table and quietly walked out of the conference room, leaving a well of silence in her wake.</p><p>Finally, Nadine spoke up. "I'll talk to her," she assured Elizabeth. "It's been a difficult week for her. The press have been hitting pretty hard about Brett Boris."</p><p>Elizabeth nodded. "Yeah. That'll be all."</p><p>"Thank you, Madam Secretary," said Nadine, rising to leave. The rest followed suit, save Henry, who hung back.</p><p>"She's right, you know," he said softly.</p><p>Elizabeth looked up at him. "I'm sorry?"</p><p>"Daisy. We all know there's more to the Brett Boris story."</p><p>"Of course there is."</p><p>"I think the American people would appreciate you telling the truth." <em>So would I, </em>he didn't say.</p><p>"I can't," she said, her voice shrinking to a whisper.</p><p>Henry nodded. "Okay. I trust you." With that, he left. Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief. She wondered how long she would have to keep up the secrecy in the office. Bit by bit, she was unraveling the conspiracy behind Marsh's death, but it was starting to feel like it would never end.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Elizabeth finally reads in her staff, and prepares for the trip to Iran.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Y'all keep saying you can't wait for Tamerlane. Well, here we are! The beginning of this chapter coincides with the beginning of that episode. Don't worry, we'll be spending quite a few chapters on this episode. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A few minutes before 3am on Friday morning, everyone Elizabeth’s inner circle was woken by a phone call summoning them to the State Department. Half an hour later, they were gathered in the Secretary’s office, and she stood behind her desk, explaining to them why they were there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have a lot to tell you,” she said, “and not a lot of time, so forgive me for skipping the sensitivity preamble.” They nodded, eyes locked on her, listening closely. “Secretary Marsh was murdered. And he and Andrew Munsey were plotting a military coup against the regime in Iran.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nadine and Daisy had both been informed of this beforehand, but she saw the shock come over the other faces in the room, even Henry’s, although he had known a bit more than the rest of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She continued. “I started looking into Vincent Marsh’s death about 8 months ago, after a friend of mine came to me with his suspicions, and then died days later in a car crash,” she said, walking around to the front of her desk. “I looked into Marsh’s financials and found an account at a bank in Caracas under his name, which was emptied out the day after he died. The woman who accessed the account was Samila Mahdavi. We found her in Turkey, and tried to bring her in quietly for questioning, but Munsey had put people in place to stop the operation.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leaned against the front of her desk. “Brett Boris and Samila Mahdavi were both killed. We struck a deal with Turkey to keep them quiet, and Minister Javani gave me the hard drive from Samila’s laptop, which revealed that she was a rogue agent working for Andrew Munsey as part of an elaborate and sophisticated plot to overthrow the government in Iran, which led to Marsh’s death.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait,” said Matt, “so Secretary Marsh was working with the people that killed him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. He and Allen Bollings were doing everything they could to slow the peace talks, which he never believed in. We have Andrew Munsey under lockdown in his house so he won’t be able to reach out to his co-conspirators. We believe he was running the show, but Vincent Marsh was certainly a big part of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jay looked puzzled, pacing the floor as he tried to grasp the situation. “But why?” he asked. “Why then kill Marsh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Except clearly it had something to do with the coup conspiracy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jay sighed, leaning his hand against the back of Henry’s chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously,” she went on, “preventing the coup is our number-one priority. In order to do that, we need some viable information to take to the Iranians.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” asked Henry. “I mean, why not go ahead and tell them what we do know? It would give them some advantage, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Our relationship with Iran is rocky at best, and this coup has American fingerprints all over it. I think if I went to Minister Javani with the sketchy information that we have, he would have no reason not to believe that we were secretly backing the coup.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake looked up at her from his seat next to Henry. “What do you need from us, ma’am?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The key to any post-coup structure would be a leader.” Elizabeth moved behind her desk, picking up a folder. “Based on my knowledge of the Iranian opposition community, I’ve come up with a list of seven names.” She opened the folder and pulled out seven papers with pictures and names. “I’m hoping you can help me narrow it down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They all gathered round her desk to look at the photos. “It’s not Ahadi or Pejman,” said Jay. “Marsh thought they were lightweights.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He was pretty distrustful of Khorsandi,” Nadine added. “He called him the Rat of Ramin. Definitely not him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” said Elizabeth. “So we’re left with Kadivar, Soroush, Abdollah and Alinejad. Let’s see if we can connect any of them to Secretary Marsh and Andrew Munsey within the last year.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth was already on her second cup of coffee when Alison came downstairs the next morning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, you got the Laffy String!” she said, excitedly picking up a can.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup,” said Elizabeth. “Swung by and picked it up last night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Must have been late,” Alison commented. “You weren’t here when I went to bed last night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ali was right. She’d left the office around 4am and stopped on the way home to get a huge box of Laffy String, which was now sitting on the kitchen island to be used for the traditional Adams Family Laffy String Fight on Alison’s birthday in two days. “Yeah, I was stuck at the office for a while,” she said, leaning her tired frame against the counter. “Then the White House, then the office again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not if I do my job right,” Elizabeth said, the words carrying a bit more weight to them than Alison realized.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, then I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she said simply, as Jason came down the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning,” said Elizabeth, patting him on the shoulder as he brushed past.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morning,” he replied, eyeing the Laffy String. “Looks like we’re all set for the epic war, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” said Alison, “and you’re going down.” Elizabeth heard her phone buzzing and picked it up from the counter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In your dreams,” Jason shot back, eyes narrowing. The phone call was from Nadine, and Elizabeth answered it while her kids bickered playfully behind her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Nadine, what do you got?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jafar Alinejad, Andrew Munsey, and Vincent Marsh were all in Jamaica the same weekend. Marsh had had me falsify his records to show that he was in Caracas.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When was this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The weekend of May 9th. About a month after the President signed on to peace talks with Shiraz.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, reach out to NSA and INR, see if they can connect him to the coup. But keep the info to the top level only, we’ve got to keep the circle tight on this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. I’ll reach out to the directors right away.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, make sure they know this is the President’s top priority.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes ma’am.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Nadine. And good work. I’m going to the white house first, but I’ll see you at the office.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, ma’am,” said Nadine, hanging up the phone and putting it back on her desk. She turned on her computer so that she could pull up the relevant phone numbers, and then heard a knock on her door. “Come in,” she called.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry opened the door. “Hey, senior staff is going for drinks tonight if we ever get to leave. Are you in?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nadine smiled grimly. “Sure, why not? Beats drinking alone in my house.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth ended up meeting with the President twice that day. The first was to tell him about Jafar Alinejad, who he had wanted her and Russell to meet with. “See what you make of him,” he’d told her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Conrad, you aren’t considering getting on board with the coup?” she’d asked, incredulous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need to consider the best way forward,” he’d insisted, and she had acquiesced.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The second meeting was to tell him what they’d learned about Alinejad. “I had some concerns when I saw how she looked,” she told the President. “The graying in his pupils, spider veins around the temples. I asked NSA to do some digging, and they found his medical records. He’s being treated at Sloan Kettering for brain cancer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How bad is it?” Conrad asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’ll be dead within two months. And as arrogant as Alinejad is, I agree with him that he’s the only one that can hold that country together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Even if the coup succeeds, odds are the government will crumble when he dies,” Russell agreed. “Be another Iraq.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then we have to make sure the coup never happens,” Conrad said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We still don’t have enough to take to the Iranians.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m tired of hearing what we can’t do, Russell,” the President snapped. “And we’re running out of time. How the hell are we gonna get the intel we need?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bring in Alinejad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what? Waterboard him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well threaten to deport his grandkids, for starters,” Russell said, but he was grasping at straws and they all knew it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve got a better idea,” said Elizabeth. “I want to take this information to the Iranians in a way that forces them to trust us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what’s that?” asked Conrad.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I fly to Tehran tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Russell responded, stunned. “With a coup in the works? Diplomatic Security would never allow it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They would if the President signed off on it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But it--it’s practically a suicide mission.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s the only way to convince them we’re on their side,” Elizabeth argued. She turned her attention to the President. “Conrad, I have a relationship with Minister Javani. He wants to avoid a war just as much as we do. If I meet with him in person, knowing the risk, and give him what little intel we do have, I think he’ll believe me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Conrad carefully considered her words. “Russell?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Russell sighed. “She’s right, unfortunately. The Iranians would have to listen to us.” He looked over at Elizabeth again, and then back at the president. “We can have DS do an assessment of the risk,” he said, after a long pause, “and keep it top-secret, of course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do it.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“I just still can’t believe it about Marsh,” said Daisy, staring into her cocktail glass and finding it half-empty. When they’d finally caught a break at work, the staff had met at the same old spot; these end-of-the-world drinks were starting to become a regular thing. “I mean, he always seemed so selfless, and it turns out he was behind this whole...scheme.” She shook her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think the Secretary was quite as selfless as you remember,” said Nadine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did that for a while—idolized him. It happens when someone dies, you want to remember them at their best. But Vincent Marsh was, at best, a politician. At worst, a…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jay cut in. “Lying, self-serving, unpatriotic criminal?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The table was quiet for a moment. “Sorry,” Jay said with a sigh. “Guess I’m still processing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We were all disillusioned,” Nadine assured him. “Myself most of all, of course.” They all knew what she meant; she’d told them earlier that day of her relationship with Marsh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wonder how Benedict Arnold’s staff fared after the whole treason thing,” Matt mused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably not well,” said Daisy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll wager when they went looking for their next gig, they weren’t helped much by Mr. Arnold’s letter of recommendation,” Nadine joked, a sardonic smile playing on her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look,” said Henry, “Blake and I didn’t work for Secretary Marsh, so we can’t exactly participate in the pity party, but I’m pretty sure we all still </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> jobs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nadine didn’t look so sure. “We won’t when the scandal breaks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Corrupt Secretary of State murdered by Corrupt CIA Director,” said Matt, already imagining the headlines. “The entire administration could come tumbling down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Including the State Department?” asked Blake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly,” said Henry. “Corrupt Secretary or not, we work for Secretary Adams now, and she had nothing to do with the--” he quieted his voice down to a whisper, remembering they were in a public place. “The coup. She’s the one trying to stop it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter,” said Daisy. “She’ll still be tainted. We all will.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry looked around at the rest of the senior staff, and they all carried matching grim looks. “Fine,” he relented, raising a glass in mock celebration. “Let the pity party commence!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They laughed despite themselves, knocking their glasses together and taking a drink. “To whatever happens tomorrow,” said Jay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not so fast,” said Nadine, looking at her phone. “Looks like today isn’t over quite yet. The Secretary is calling us back to the office.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“What I’m about to say does not leave this room, understood?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Around her, Elizabeth’s staff nodded their heads. “Yes, ma’am,” said a few.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tomorrow morning, I’m getting on a plane to Tehran. I’m going to meet with Javani and give him what we have on the coup. It’s the only way I can see to get through to him that we’re not behind it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But how do we know the coup won’t happen while you’re there?” asked Henry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is our best chance of stopping it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hang on,” he said, leaning forward, “aren’t we going to acknowledge how risky this is?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth looked around at her staff, and could see that their eyes were all asking the same question. “Yes,” she admitted, “there is a risk. But that’s part of why I’m going, to show Javani that he can trust me. And that’s why it’s top secret. No one will know I’m there, are we perfectly clear?” They agreed. “Good. Blake, get me Javani on SVTC as soon as possible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake nodded, leaving the room to set up the call. “Nadine,” she continued, “work with Blake to clear my schedule for the next few days as quietly as possible, and keep my office running like nothing’s going on. Jay, I’d like you to put together all the information we have on the coup in a concise packet that I can deliver to the Iranians. Daisy, Matt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, ma’am?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Be prepared to give a statement.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Saying what?” Matt asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth shrugged. “We don’t know yet. Have options prepared. Henry, why don’t you stick around for the call with Javani? Thanks, everybody.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you Madam Secretary.” The rest of her staff filed out, leaving just Henry, who was sitting in a chair right in front of her, looking at her like he was about to say, well, exactly what she expected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Henry--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t expect me to just sit back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know what you’re going to say.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I noticed that nobody,” he said, gesturing to the group of people who’d just left, “had anything to say about the security concerns of you flying into the middle of a coup.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One could argue that they serve at the pleasure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So do I. But someone has to tell you this is too dangerous. Madam Secretary,” he said, standing from his chair, “I am advising as your employee, and asking as your friend. Don’t do this.” The way he looked at her made her heart reconsider its next beat. Nevertheless, she shook her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Henry, I have to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I’m going to.” She stood up as well, looking him straight in the eye. “So are you with me or not?” He held her gaze for a long moment, and then nodded his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” he said. “I’m with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake rapped lightly on the door and then opened it. “Madam Secretary, Minister Javani will make the call in about five minutes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Blake.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, one other thing, though?” He looked a bit nervous. “The sitter. Alyssa had informed me that she would be out of town this week for spring break, and on such short notice…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Crap,” Elizabeth groaned. “And I can’t use Isabelle because I need her at Langley.” She sighed. “And my other best friend committed treason.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Henry looked thoughtful. “You know, Stevie’s on spring break, too. She just came in tonight. Maybe she could babysit?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth and Blake looked back over at him. “Doesn’t she have plans?” she asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, she’s going to the beach, but she doesn’t leave till Thursday.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I’ll be back by then,” Elizabeth said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll be back,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Henry heard. “Do you think she’d do it on short notice?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Babysit the Secretary of State’s kids? I think I can convince her,” he said with a smile. “I’ll tell her she’s serving her country.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Give her the medal of freedom if you have to,” she said. He laughed. It wasn’t that funny, but she laughed too. It was easier to laugh.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For the record, the reason I'm not updating as often as I'd like (and as some of y'all would like, I'm sure) is that school is rough and I don't have that much time. But I'm doing the best I can! I honestly don't love this chapter, but I wanted to post something since it's been over a week. Thanks for all of your patience and for the kind reviews/comments!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Elizabeth goes to Iran.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yeah, I know.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Elizabeth managed to get about three hours of sleep before her alarm clock went off. She groaned as she opened her eyes and sat up, flicking the lamp on. Her eyes drifted over to the half-full suitcase sitting on the floor by the window, and she forced herself out of bed to finish packing. She was in the kitchen sipping her coffee when Alison came down the stairs, followed closely by Jason.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“T-minus one day till the Epic Laffy String War!” she announced, her eyes dancing excitedly over the collection of aerosol cans waiting on the counter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth set her mug down. “About that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate to spring this on you, but this little work trip came up, and I’m going to have to be out of town for a few days.” Alison’s face fell. “I’m sorry,” said Elizabeth. “Unfortunately, I couldn’t get Alyssa to come on such short notice, so Henry’s daughter is going to stay with you guys.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason frowned. “Henry, from your staff? His daughter?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I’ve met her a couple of times, and she’s really very sweet. It was the best I could do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are you going?” Alison asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t say,” she said, trying for casual, but she saw the concerned look pass between their faces. “But I’ll call tomorrow morning,” she assured them. Her phone buzzed, and she looked down at the screen. “She’s here,” she said, heading to the front door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She opened the door and Stevie was standing there with a suitcase in her hand and a smile on her face. “Hey, come in,” said Elizabeth, opening the door and ushering her into the foyer. “Thank you so much for doing this, especially on such short notice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No problem, Madam Secretary.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just so you know,” she leaned in to whisper, “it’s Alison’s birthday tomorrow. She’ll be 16.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie nodded, following her into the kitchen. “I know.” she whispered conspiratorially. “It was in Blake’s email.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison and Jason both looked up when they came in. “Uh, this is Alison and Jason,” said Elizabeth. “And this is Stephanie McCord.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you,” said Alison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” said Jason with a little wave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So Blake sent you all the information?” asked Elizabeth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yes. His email was very...comprehensive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. Well, if you need to get in touch with me, use this phone,” she said, gesturing to the landline on the counter. “It’s a secure line.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Got it. I think we’re all set.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” said Elizabeth, knowing she was running out of things to delay her leaving. She rounded the kitchen island to give her son a warm hug. “Please be nice to your sister on her birthday. And please be nice to Stephanie too. She graciously agreed to do this about an hour ago.” She pulled back to look him in the face. “I love you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Love you too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She released him and gave an even tighter squeeze to Ali. “Noodle, I am so bummed about ditching you on your sweet sixteen. I feel awful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” said Alison into her shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around her. “Just come back fast, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As fast as I can. Love you,” she said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Love you too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth looked at the time on her phone, and knew she needed to go. “Stephanie,” she said, heading out the door, “you’re a lifesaver. When I get back, I swear to god, I’m naming you an ambassador to somewhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I vote the Bahamas,” Stevie said with a laugh. “Have a good trip.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks. I love you guys,” she said to her kids, inching toward the door. “I’ll see you in a few days.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie watched her leave, and then turned to Ali. “You were pretty chill with your mom about her leaving on your birthday,” she said, reading her face. Alison looked up at her with a sideways smile. “Are you really just...okay with it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not really,” Ali admitted. “It sucks. But,” she shrugged, “I don’t want to make her feel bad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I get that. But I think it wouldn’t hurt to be honest with her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She has a lot bigger things to worry about than me being disappointed,” she said simply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie nodded. “Well, I, for one, am sorry that she won’t be there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Stephanie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie winced. “Uhh, actually, it’s Stevie. No one really calls me Stephanie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison frowned. “My mom calls you Stephanie. You should tell her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know. I feel like it would be awkward, and I don’t want her to feel bad. Plus, I mean, she’s the Secretary of State. She has…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A lot bigger things to worry about?” Alison finished, grinning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Touch</span>
  <span>é.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>When Alison woke on Sunday morning, it took her a moment to realize what day it was. When she did, she practically leaped out of bed to put on the special birthday outfit she’d laid out the night before. A short while later, she came down the stairs to the kitchen, finding Stevie and Jason hard at work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy birthday!” Stevie shouted excitedly as soon as she saw her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” said Alison, looking around the kitchen. Stevie was stirring what looked like pancake batter, and Jason was cracking eggs into a pan. “Aww, you guys are making me breakfast?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie grinned. “My dad </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> makes me pancakes on my birthday,” she said with a shrug. “To me, it wouldn’t be a birthday without it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison looked over at Jason. “You got him to help?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason pointed a spatula at her. “Hey, I was given specific instructions to be nice to you.” His face softened a bit. “Happy birthday, Ali.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you prefer chocolate chips or blueberries? You guys have both.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Chocolate chips,” Alison said eagerly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe Mom should go out of town more often,” Jason said, but the words fell a little flat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean--I just--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Jason.” She looked at Stevie. “He just means that Mom can’t cook.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie nodded. “Got it,” she said, looking around the kitchen. “Got another spatula?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison opened the drawer closest to her and pulled one out. “Here you go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Stevie said. She started scooping batter onto the griddle. “So does this kind of thing happen a lot? Spontaneous, undisclosed trips?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not really,” said Alison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” said Jason simultaneously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yes to the spontaneous part,” Ali admitted. “But they’re not usually secret. This is only the second time, and the other ended up being to Turkey last week. Do you think they’re connected?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Definitely,” said Jason. “Probably has to do with that rogue CIA operation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison rolled her eyes. “Ignore the conspiracy theoris.t”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason was forming a response, but the phone rang on the countertop, and they all looked over at it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’ll be Mom,” said Alison, picking it up. “Hello?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” said Elizabeth on the other end. “Happy Birthday, Noodle. I miss you so much I can’t stand it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Mom. Where are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth smirked to herself—Ali was most certainly her daughter. “Not with you, which is such a bummer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you looking at?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alison smiled. “Ah, so you’re somewhere with rooms, are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really narrows it down, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you see outside of your window?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth walked over to the window, looking through the sheer lace curtains. “A street...trees. Oh, darn, I’ve said too much. How’s it going with Stephanie and Jason?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stevie and Jason are good,” said Alison, a subtle nudge on the name. “Stevie is making me pancakes, and Jason’s frying eggs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s so sweet. I wish I were there. And not just for the pancakes. Is it alright if I talk to Stephanie?” Apparently, the nudge hadn’t worked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure. Love you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you too, to the moon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next voice Elizabeth heard was Stevie’s. “Hey, Madam Secretary.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey. How’s it going? The kids okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re great,” Stevie assured her. “Everything okay over there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth’s eyes fell to the door, outside of which she knew Javani was on the phone with his President. “That remains to be seen. Well, I should probably go, if you’re all good. Tell Jason I love him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your mom loves you,” said Stevie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth faintly heard Jason say, “love you, too, Mom.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He loves you too. Goodbye, Madam Secretary.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bye.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth ended the call and went back into Zahed’s den, where he was still on the phone, speaking in Persian.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hung up shortly and turned to look at her. “That was President Shiraz. I gave him the information you provided. He’s already passed it along to a special army unit, extremely loyal to us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elizabeth sighed in relief, sitting down on the seat by the window. “I am very glad to hear that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s your daughter?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too old. But if I had to miss her birthday, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, you coming here...Shiraz, Ayatollah Ruhmeini, the other Ayatollahs, we’re impressed. Especially me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you took the first step coming to see me in D.C.,” she said, standing up and taking a step toward him. She smiled. “The thought wouldn’t have crossed my mind if you hadn’t done that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Elizabeth Adams, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Abdol came in from the kitchen. “Father, I can’t figure out this algebra problem.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, been there,” said Elizabeth. Distantly, she heard a ringing, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Fred pull a phone out and answer it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Try again,” said Zahed. “If you are still having trouble, I’ll help you after I’m done--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without no warning, Elizabeth was on the floor. Retroactively, she registered the sound of glass breaking, of the explosion, of gunshots. The window behind her had shattered. Instinctively, she tried to push herself up. Someone was shouting. Something hit her from behind, forced her straight back down. “Madam Secretary, Madam Sec--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was Fred. He was on top of her. Looking around wildly, her eyes fell to Javani, who was on the ground a few feet away, and then to Abdol, crouched behind the sofa. The gunshots hadn’t stopped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Javani pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, reaching for his son. “Abdol, get down!” he shouted, and then he was hit. She watched, helpless, as he sank to the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Abdol screamed, unintelligibly, and it was suddenly the only sound she could hear. Elizabeth pushed desperately against the ground and the weight on top of her, trying to get to him. “Abdol, stay down,” she shouted, trying to raise her weak voice above the deafening screams and continuing gunshots. She kept fighting to move an inch, but it was hopeless. Fred had her trapped. She dared to look over at his face, pressed against the carpet, eyes lifeless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Abdol kept screaming, and Elizabeth lay there on the ground, powerless to help him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Don't worry, Henry will show up in the next chapter. Let me know what you think by leaving a kudos, a comment, or an ask on my Tumblr: YesMadamePresident. Thanks for reading!</p><p>p.s. Just edited this chapter for a mistake--Elizabeth's last name is Adams, not McCord. Thank you to the people who caught it!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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